kambur

Every night now she unplaits her hair before sleep. It rests on the pillows behind and above her head. Quite possibly, it gleams in the dark. The strands curl around her dreams.

One night in sleep she descends into the sea and into the house of the Mother of Sea-Beasts, She is not a sea-beast herself, but she wants to give her honor, and so she says, Greetings, Mother. The Mother of Sea-Beasts receives that honor courteously and says, Greetings, daughter.

She sees that hair of the Mother of Sea-Beasts lies on her breasts in two thick plaits woven with ornaments of ivory and bone. You hair is very fine, Mother, she says. She says, One of my lovers has newly visited me, and he combed and and ornamented my hair. And she pats one of the braids with her fingerless hand.

The Mother of Sea-Beasts sees that her guest's hair floats about her head in the water. She asks, Has no one visited you, Daughter, and combed your hair for you? She answers, When I have a lover, if my hair is not in plaits, it will wind around his neck. For that reason I go to bed with my hair braided. When I do not have a lover, I have it combed and loose upon the pillow. The Mother of Sea-Beasts asks, And do you comb and plait your own hair, Daughter? Yes, Mother, she says. I do.

Then she swims upward and wakes in her own bed with her hair upon the pillows.