Ophelia

I feel solidified Captured in blue-green horizon They are eternal and faceless My lungs; brown paper bags deflating My milk structures are curdling There are tiny mouths taking microscopic airs Aerated and heavy as oxygen in a stone sphere Gaumless and watched by black-ochre shadows circling Compacted as mud underfoot and crushed By reaching hands exploring my hollow flesh Taking me further down and circles of dust Rosaries in waterlogged,