Ophelia

neck of the hand,

hiding from vexing feelings,

I, an ambitious fool!

enter drama’s eyes,

the wild ache of spines,

intoxicating by default.

but you are too intense,

and unashamed and sacrificial,

frightening in the way you (never)

fear your own uncertainty, but: the sun

promises to burn, regardless.

indigo tones

a catharsis in this justified holy place:

you sat quietly and I studied your face;

how singular it is to be an

exquisite witness to an individual’s grief.