What Ophelia Knew

It is cool under the ripples.
Lies no longer sing,
Keening in the shadows.
Fish kiss you
Like children.
And the Father Eye
Forgets his power to burn.
Everyone inside me can float.
I am kissed by shaded lips,
I hear whispers,
"Exhale green
And the singular flow soothes your skin
Into the palest blues."
Unlike the fearful crimson
Of Womanhood.


Christopher Caldwell is 21 in Los Angeles. He can be contacted at sandalphn@geocities.com

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