Filtered sunlight tints your pale skin sea green, yet you’ve sunk too far below the surface for waves to ruffle your hair or shift slack, suspended limbs. Even gathered in my arms you remain a thing of flesh and bone only, the hot spark of life I loved so dearly doused within your flooded breast. Oh, forgive me, my dear, my love. I arrived too late to save you; I dreamed too late, too little, to know you. Forgive me. Forgive me.