Two of us, the waves lap a distance away with unstable fury. My soul with yours, yours with mine intertwined and apart. Even as wind lashes our faces as the Furies do with sinners, even as the stench of salt chokes me. I do not falter. 

Glancing at you, it is haunting. Your eyelids closed over each violet iris, unseeing even as thunder crackles and lightning strikes across grey skies. You may as well be a statue, delicate features unwavering. Do I dare try drag you, try take you from fate. 

Perhaps I could shield you. I beg of you, use my body, use my soul, strip me from what little title we call humanity. Anything, for you to leave this place. 

But then what use would it be, when you yourself are plastered to the earth. What use would it be, when the Gods themselves cursed you to this state.

I clean you, stay by your side, and yet you are immovable. My dear I would sleep here on a bed of green. For a millenia, for more, if only to meet you in the dream world where life meets death. 

 It was a sudden chill, only a sudden wind. You fell, you fell even as I grasped for your hand. I weep for you, now encased in that soft ivory casket, and chastise your selfishness. You are gone and leaving and left me on this mortal plane without your embrace and eyes and life. 

For what good is it, when one half of my heart is buried and the other lodged in my throat?

What good is it to grieve as the Gods cannot, when Gods are invulnerable and you are not.