The longest voyage needs no trunks,

and what I give is all I have.

Take my gaze, rich in its poverty;

It’s made from sky, warm air, cool water,

so ugliness can one day be washed.

Take my hands, so alive with caresses

and the rebellions that they’ve hatched.

Take my hair,

untameable,

it’s always shouted.

Take my silence, my giddiness . . . the rest

is for the last great wave,

the first of the first tide.

— Georgette Gaucher Rosenberg, from Ocean, Take Me Back