I kept a promise I never made
In light airs, a tropic of indifference;
And never was resolve by lack of action betrayed,
But fate must be satisfied by inference.
Letting go the edge was ease, a lysis; luffs
Do lose such depth and so blur summit then
That “thus the seething sea sufficeth us,”
And time will reattach to him, her, one, it, them.