To a Woman.

[Underwater Ophelia]

Imagine this:
Bound, non-committal, and everywhere at once
There is no molecule inhalable that has not been inside,
(breaths are sharper all the time.)
Bound, aimlessly, and completely free,
To that woman.

And further,
Imagine that Pre-Raphaelite masterpiece moving
Ceaselessly, and with ease, through air thick with panting and gasps.
That hen-speckled, lily-fleshed abomination humming
Whirring in instrumental atmosphere, laughing at a straightened spine.
Breathing.

Defiantly, I'll clutch my chest.
Breathe shallower and dizzy up,
If it means resistance.

[Underwater Ophelia]

This is about the same woman.

Arrowed, in a Field.

Bleeding out steamy in the snow
Crumpled, more elegant than when striking a pose
I'll descend on you like Saturn
Phaseless, and suffocating.

Ravenous, scanning a field that was
White but for a shock of red.
Hot against bits of ice disguised as flakes.

Who's gasping now?

Each second, smaller
Concave chest and withered

Who's gasping now?

[Alan]

I'm gonna steal the imagery from the first poem and make one of my own; I liked parts of it.

[MissCheyenne]

I like it. I'm not sure exactly why I like it but I do. I prefer the last three lines to the rest though, they just seem a little more.....honest if that's the right word.

I'm not sure about the second one, it seems quite....violent. Repressed violence but still violent.Maybe that's just the way I'm reading it though.