Black water swirls around one lover's feet
And clouds of graphene grey collude to mix
Submitting to the oily folds beneath,
Our lover's head submerges in the styx.
Yet one hand stays above the ebb and flow,
Clutching that of whom he cares the most -
Who patient, stoic may just never know
What's now occurring by her rigid post.
Just as these queries root and take to flower
And grip forgotten, loosened in the mist
It tightened, resurrected with the power
Gained by acts indulgent such as this
But with her hands withdrawing softly still
Should he have pulled her in against her will?
