Wordle #242

242

The sky is pale, pinafore blue,
the edges crimped like words
in an abandoned letter.
My other face eases
back into the water
a whisper condensed,
an object unquestable.

I call to her but she does not listen.
Narcissa, flower-eater, dream-threader
she transforms and persists, ever-present,
shining and vestigial, I follow her
in the hopes of drowning.
I follow her,  heart full of echoes.

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13 responses to “Wordle #242

  1. Pinafore blue grabbed me – as did the other self – i can understand the urge to follow..it pulls so strongly and yet i hope this side of the water can be better sometime – an emotive and beautiful poem

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