Swan

He wandered upstream

As the brook sang his song,

Soaking his brilliance.

Only latent in water.

But callous in air,

A white swell in our blue

I was the water.

No,

A ripple.

I bathed with him,

Only a little.

I wanted him to drown

Cloak him in slime and

Make him my fish.

He wrestled my smothering

Skin, plucking the feathers

Off his fins.

Drown my darling, please.

You can’t have the wind

If I won’t breathe.

Image: Elizabeth Aline

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