Flashes of Ophelia at 4:36am

Words: Eve McIntosh (She/Her)

I thought of her in the moments

before jolting from dreams,

riverweed wrapping – cough it up! – flash

me that bogwater backbone

between breaths (the luxury of a beautiful death). 

let her drown, splutter before song,

(let her buy patent Mary-Janes, cut micro-bangs).

unattainable porcelain doll, permanent pillow princess,

‘Choking Fees Apply!’

watch your dream girls embody the corpse,

cherish soggy petals,

gargle stifled silence. 

she lays there, the wet dream, all the while.

do you ever wonder where docile girls go to die in the hearts of their lovers?

let me be your ashtray

                        muse

                        omen

                                    while wishing I was her.

make of me what you must,

not beauty between sinking reeds, rotting nailbeds, rusting earrings,

not fading into mulch, carried away by ripples,

pearl in the tide,

sprouting up once more a tender-violent sapling

in your bathroom sink.

                         Ophelia (1851-52), Sir John Everrett Millais.