Two ships were visible against the wet horizon. He anchorless, she rudderless
drifting in a sea of eloquent sadness so vast it seemed colourless.
One ship succumbed to the greyness pouring into her galley, water leaking
through portholes pecked by birds she thought her friends turned traitorous
letting herself turn inwards into the weight of it all.
And so began the torturous and unknown sink beneath the glass shore.
The other broken ship was made more broken by her absence.