What the Clay Still Does

Off Adrasan the hold kept what the merchants meant: clay pressed between the plates so rim would not find rim across a sea they meant to finish.

Forty-two meters is enough. Six thousand forms stay separate in the dark that took the voyage. One hundred twenty-two sizes waited for a table that kept its own hours above.

Cicero asked Atticus for Rhosica vasa— ink that got there. The ship did not.

What holds is the soft wedge still doing its work where no wave reaches.