- By Frances Isler (they/them)
- Art “Untitled” by Dorothy Hamilton (she/her)
Her
gown across the
ocean foam
mocks that dear Ophelia.
Whether
siren or serene,
our damsel of the sea
does not let her gaze
linger on the shore
Instead,
she swims
on, wings
outreached
in total exhale
and relief.
To
breathe
she swirls her
hand along a wave line.
Lungs bloom a deep blue,
and
if your eyes
happen to align
she’d persuade you.
To
know the
depths
she has known.
and see with eyes most
wide
all that is her sunken
life.
And
though
she’s tried
for human eyes to
witness all she has
to show,
It’s
in the
sinking
that she cries
and watches bodies
float to shore.
