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
