TO THESE AREAS, VOID OF HOPE, WHICH THEY LEAVE BEHIND, TO THE SHORES WHICH CHASE THEM AWAY, TO THE COASTS WHICH REJECT THEM. TO THE CHILD WHOM WE BELIEVED WAS ASLEEP SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE SEA AND THE SAND. TO HISTORY, WHICH IS BOUND TO BE HARSH WITH US. FOR OUR CLOSED EYES, FOR OUR RECURRING SHAME UNDER THE GUISE OF EMPATHY. WE WHO WILL CONTINUE TO FEEL THESE DISSONANT EMOTIONS FOR A LONG TIME. AS IF TO AVOID ADMITTING IT. AS IF TO INSTIL IT IN OUR CHILDREN’S BRAINS. AS IF TO MAKE SURE THAT THEY BE MORE FORGIVING THAN THIS CALM WATER. TO THE MEDITERRANEAN, TO THE WOMEN AND MEN WHO CROSS IT WITHOUT KNOWING ANY BETTER THAN WE DO IF IT IS "MORE HUMILIATING TO BE" A MIGRANT THAN AN IMMIGRANT. TO THE TOO MANY STRANDED, DEAD PEOPLE WITH NO NAME BUT FINALLY EMIGRATED, TO THOSE WHO GIVE THEM A NAME AND GREET THEM WITHOUT HOPE OF RESPONSE. TO THE SHIPWRECKED HUMAN BEINGS, THE STRANDED HUMAN BEINGS, BUT ABOVE ALL TO THOSE OF WHOM WE WILL NEVER KNOW THE NUMBER OR THE NAME, SWEPT INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE MIDDLE SEA BY OUR SILENCE. TO THE SEASIDE TOURISTS, TO THE CHILDREN WHO STILL LAUGH DESPITE THIS ICY HEAT.