How does she retain dignity,
In her fierce need for independence,
when tethered to a sinking ship,
Not political, more personal,
Reaching for rope
Someone holds onto
On the other end
Invisible in the deep fog,
Inaudible amid the gurgles
Of the sinking ship,
Still, she resists,
Painting face
On a horrid situation,
Not the quick sand
She once claimed
I sank into
But quick drying concrete shoes
that that drags her down into the abyss,
not at all where she
intended to be,
yet, maybe, all she can see
the bubbles of her
final breath
filled with a pleas
he might hear and respond to
dragging her back to
firmer soil
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