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Helena Nov 2018
Is that what Love is?
Blood circling down a drain
Not shed from any impassioned blow, but
From the slow Invasion of my body by yours
Displacing my flesh for yours
So that if it all goes up in smoke (as it could- all too easily)
You will be etched onto my soul;
Incisions from which leak red bulbous drops
When I think of you.
Helena Jun 2018
The flat pasture was disturbed by a dip
A markèd groove in its dark, mossy surface
I tipped my head over the hole, inching gradually towards the centre
Smooth and immaculate
The water served as a perfect mirror; my face against the dusky sky
I squinted into its inky eyes, searching for familiarity
But curiosity got the better of me
And I fell.

The initial contact was the worst:
A shock of cold slapped my face and I saw nothing
But an ominous blur of dappled green light
The heavy water pushed me further – down, down –
To uncertain depths
Movement stung my skin, so I decided to freeze.

Unconsciously I drifted to the mouth again
And shot up
Spluttering and gasping; the air was damp and heavy
Pathetic and sopping, I crawled out and sat beside the edge
The sky had darkened a little
Though there were still enough streaks of blue for the pool to reflect back at me
Pure as before
I tried to emulate this static perfection
But drops and tears ran down my body in a restless stream
And I couldn’t control it.
I don’t considered this to be finished and would like to edit it further. I want it to flow nicely and I feel the phrasing is a little clunky in parts. All suggestions/comments for improvement welcome.

— The End —