"Yes, I am the crinkly faced, or worse; dumb-
Ness seems to steal upon me, true, but content?
I am...; many legged weaver full of wisdom,
Don't fear; think of me a kindly continent
Come on, climb that reed until your weight
Bends it like a bow and, like forgiveness,
Touches me; I love the reeds that sway like wheat. . .
That's it; hug my shell now; the fog rises
We should go, it's best you don't be seen
You know... fog like shells all made of quiet;
No one laughs at me here, and my Queen... my Queen
Must always remain Duchess concealed; see that quaint
Crab who scuttles about like a traipsing skull?
A spy, sifting for her through the seas ancient, tropical..."