Death by Drowning

Leave you on the shore
And step in to the transparent chillness
of the early sea.
Anklets shall break off,
Taking you along the swim and the swirl
Of grey waters.
Float like fresh flowers on a stream
Swaying to the current.
Ophelia is not a single woman
But the curls that drift along
To become weeds of wild green
And a pale white face, floating on the pitch dark waters
Like moon on a starless sky.

Fishes are the re-incarnations of women drowned
And mermaids their half-naked truths.






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