Melancholia

Paul Delaroche (1797-1856), Ophelia

 

Cold porcelain kisses your flesh
Bound hindquarters keep me safe
Bleached stainless steel blades light up the whites of your eyes

Icy blue iridescent planets roll deep inside
Bruised, sticky skin
Baby brides fall from the sky

Petrol inky rivers stand still upon your gaze
Silence dances in your crimson mouth
Blood becomes darker with each turning phase

There's little breath left in my body
Between my legs is ever lasting heat
The wind lifts my ashes to a place where time has no space

 

*Postscript: after writing this I learnt that Amos Vogel passed away early this morning. May he be forever in peace. 

Music to be still to: