The night gentles and is clear for our long outward passage. The sky, entertaining as a pinball machine shoots two stars above our mast. Yes, I would have furled you close then too. It is something about how we have known endings before, how promises begin this beautiful. Deep-keeled, we head out past other lit silhouettes crossing the Separation Zone to slip silently along their lanes. I am not far from myself, nor you, and not another masthead light in sight.