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ophelia in the river
December 13, 2022
ophelia's eyes were open,
pried by a hazy mist
or some lavender reverence.
her palms
drank in the passing clouds, unclasp.
and her pale lips
were parted as to release
a lone breath.
the sigh,
a shudder of munity among
the calla lilies and sweetgrass.
she never read of how
her bones would
chill in the murky river.
or of how her eyes
would dull with her last lung full
of frosted earth and water.
she only knew that
her last view would be of
the charioteer, auriga.
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