she doesn’t have the hurt
she says she’s quite okay
— and she is,
something else has changed.
she doesnt seem to know
the person she’s meant to be.
she’s watching a stranger
act themselves as her lead.
she seems so well to cope
somehow turned off that sure-ache
by occupying with distractions,
— beguiled.
she is unsure of the path
the choices her spirit will make
the possibilities delight
and terrify her all the same.
The siren’s call
echoes across the waves and
out from a whirling dreamscape
she pulls the man, down
into the lonely blue
and the delicious black
her fingers press
against the marks
of his intention
a drowned thing
he takes a breath and
rushes toward the surface
the siren wails, stay
but cured of his infliction
the man escapes, away
back –
back into the dreamscape.
