ophelia

i'd love to breathe water
a fluid crisper than air

i'd drop me down into that lake of mine
perfectly spherical
if you were to view it
from a birds eye

to look down upon me
sinking perfectly central
would be swell

i'd be alike that painting of a beautiful siren
drowned in linen
mousy brown locks gasping upwards for air

but no bird is watching
the lake is not a circle
and in the mystical syrup of it all
i realise that i cannot drink brine

but to resurface
feels unimaginable
resurrection is only for the gods
and anyhow
i've never liked the feeling
of water in my ears