For Ophelia

I have sat and waited, day in and day

Out for his return. He is home, but not

Really. Someone has plucked away my

Hamlet and left this strange young man in his

Place. Or- Could it be that this was always

Him? That he has habitually been

A man with fangs that lurk behind his eyes?

Fangs that I too would be pierced with. They sunk

Into me... plunging me into a sea

Of unrest! I’ve been dreaming about that

Creek that sings songs to me as I drift

To sleep. It tells me that it has flowing

Waters that will heal my soul! Its flowing

Stream is ungrudging, and will reunite

Me with my father! I know that a creek

Cannot speak, but no one in the living

Is calling my name anymore. Perhaps

I will see what it is like to submerge,

See if those cool, salubrious waters

Will soothe my breaking heart. Permanently.