(oh what a noble mind here is overthrown)
look you -
the earth reaches for the sky
like spurned lover for spurning love;
the trees, brittle wrists and bitter bones,
scrape the skin to dull the pain
this skin here is parchment
this blood here is ink
and what rots is in this
and in you
save your weeds pretty reflection
but (rosemary for you) remember
what blooms this hour ripens soon past life
and down into the clay
here is where earth meets sky
where this lays amidst ripple-mimicked air
where duality ends
and this is I
oh envious sliver
my friend
be thou my guide
(good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies; good night, good night)
This was definitely an experiment, and is as definitely very rough. A freewrite of my take on Ophelia's thoughts before drowning. Friendly fire anyone?
