I saw her standing there, cold and alone, staring at the place her heart used to live, now just rotting, stinking; being eaten at endlessly until it is gone, ceases to be, endless emptiness filling its place. Her eyes still filled, overflowing as they did for a year now, but maybe her eyes had no conception of time, or maybe they wept for that heart she lost, so dear to her once, so dear to her always. If only those eyes filled with sorrow knew what she was really weeping for. Weeping for death; weeping for pain. Kept in the dark by that blindfold, if only her hands could remove it and see the light from that torch she held so dearly to, but her mind is distraught by those eyes. Those eyes that weep endlessly for what she cannot see. The earth's pleas muted by those eyes. I saw her standing there and I lied. I let slip the evil I so detested in where her heart lay right through my teeth. Why? She held that heart of darkness so near, so dear.

There she was, her eyes bright and shining buried in her rosy complexion of which was indecently shown through the discharge of the temperate winds longing like lost military men to taste a woman's sweet words once again. She held in her delicate fingers, thin and unsteady, a chain of sweet nothings that trailed after her scrupulous footstep as if solely existing for the chance to be in her superlative presence. Gladiolus, Poppies, Aster, Delphinium, Orchid, Peony all linked together in a perfect array of scent and color reflecting the consummate image of the girl that led them. The world accompanied her to a cliff looking down on a cold river, the scene smothered with the orange glow of sunset and the sky clear of all but the unwavering flap and call of the birds who claimed it as their own immovable kingdom. She walked to the edge of the land and twisted around, her heels grazing the edge of everything and nothing; life and death; to fall and to walk. Slowly she tipped and her gaze caught mine. I cried out in my head Ophelia, but nothing came to my lips, cold and thin. As she hit the icy drink she smiled, her flowers cast above her about to disappear forever along with all other sweetness worth living for in Denmark.

The dusty lampshade hung crookedly
as if peering into the next room in anticipation.
Down the hallway were three empty rooms and one wall scuffed where the remote shattered into pieces.

Above her bed used to be a dark spot where she pressed with her little finger
night after night
to quiet the breaking cups, the slamming doors, the shrill, the wordless, the maddening…

When father stopped sleeping
and mother’s slight figure disappeared completely,

She wandered into the backyard, cobblestone steps sizzling like coals in summer,
put her legs in the green pool,
that climbed with moss and grey spume, frothing,
And touched Ophelia’s reflection through the abyss.

Lotus petals woven into her hair and

wrists bound with reeds,

she descends into the murky

warmth of the river bed,

where the minnows and tadpoles

nestle against her

***** affectionately–

“Sister,

at last you

have returned

to us.”

There goes Lady Fate,
donned in solar sparks
and her lace corset
whose  overt promiscuity
catches the attention of
one unsuspecting astronaut–
his helm fogs as he exhales,
his breath crude and lascivious.
Even Neptune’s eyes themselves
glitter wetly with passion
as she struts towards Polaris in
her pinprick stilettos.

She adjusts her stance accordingly:

I. Purse lips into a smoulder
(might as well look
pretty while ya get the job done.)

II. Aim for the desired target
(that there’s the bull’s eye.)

III. Wreak havoc
just as any Fate is meant to do.
(But, of course.)

She picks up her staff and fires.

The universe tremors
in an unbridled spiral
of colour and chaos
as the planets
d    a    r    t
about like billiards,                                    
                          colliding/|\with/|\ the/|\ stars

who,  in the midst of the madness,
d i v e r g e and c r* o* s s
for fear of being vanquished.

A cluster of mismatched constellations
and forsaken cosmic particles
settle into a state of
mutual negligence and destruction.
And, together, they liquefy into
a festering pool of molten silver.

Lady Fate grins–
yes, she has the stars right
where she wants them now–
and, in a final act of defiance,
she strikes against the earth
and watches with satisfaction as
it hurtles towards the silver
and sinks down into the molten
like an eight ball.
(And everyone knows it’s
Game Over
once you’ve sunk the eight ball).

From where she stands–
bent over Polaris
in seductive pretentiousness —
she relishes
in the screams
of some wretched lover–
the first to ever be
betrayed by the stars.

V. Ethereal

Maybe being drunk
is the closest I will
ever get to zero gravity--
to walking on the moon.

My fingers curled
around the neck of a liquor bottle,  
I wander to my bedroom window,
as a tipsy weightlessness settles
amongst my limbs
(and my thoughts).

Swaying slightly,
I part the curtains and,
in my intoxicated stupor,
search for Polaris in the night sky,
point to it,
press a clumsy hand to the glass,
convince myself that
I have captured the star,
and all the omniscient power
it possesses,
beneath my finger tips.

Star light,

{lips pant--
inebriated,
heavy}

star bright,

{my breath appears a catalyst
as the window pane glazes over
in an impenetrable paroxysm of fog}

first star I see tonight,

{I take a swig,
raise the bottle--
a toast
to the cosmos}

I wish I may,

{Lashes meet in
silent matrimony}

I wish I might,

{Behind closed, desperate eyes,
ribbons of colour dance
towards me in a disoriented jig}

have this wish I wish tonight--

to be
obliterated by the very galaxy
that birthed
these grieving bones
and this tumultuous heart.

Because only then--
as the Gods paint the Night
with the innards of my soul,
acrylic purples
churning against the blackness--
will I become what I
have always dreamed
of becoming:

Lovely.

Ethereal.

Robed in angelic white, she rose.
Silent and serene, strange to sight;
Unknown, yet familiar; for my heart burned.
We have loved deeply, we knew each other.
Spirit affirmed; deep called unto deep: Peace.

Up above, into the light, she rose.
Light, a most brilliant white,
Sum of light from every heaven's stars;
Each a soul, at rest, awaiting the rest.
Into the light she rose, white diffusing into light.

Today, I learned, the light is Paradise.