The free vessel, not owned by the land or the sea, born out of passion and love. Not owned, not belonging. Unrestrained and uncultured.
She made a promise to never grow roots. Yet the roots grew. Oh they grew so fast!
They grew through her very soul. And they grew thicker and thicker. They think that they had managed to take over the spirit. Finally attuning her to the normative and the social.
But it hides in her. In every breath and in every particles. Separated, yes. Lost, no. The undying need to sail away. The reasons for repression. The question of its necessity.