Virginia

i fill my pockets with stones and the water seeps through my bones, intoxicating the prism of my years as Ophelia's song drowns my ears. wretched soul, there and not there, for the waters have stripped me bare, hands over breasts, breaths made small, shaping my sins into a dull pebble. tell me, am in the place where ornaments do not kiss the rays? the sinewy branches have surrendered as i forbid myself to recover. tell me, where am i now? witnessing the birth of crows, redeemed as i return to where i'm from, where my sole hope is to be reborn. i have filled my pockets with stones and the tears of Death grant me a home