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Asphodel
She is trapped. All gray.
Your reflection, a glimpse
of you wherever she turns;
but you are not there.
Mirrors on every wall. House
of illusions. But she is
alone. She abandons you,
leaves your memory to
rot in the broken hurting
house, high on wander-
-lust, stars in her eyes.
Sudden singing, clarion, your
stirring voice. No, she tells
herself. Only her imagination.
Where is she? She looks to the
sky. Fleecy snow-white clouds
loafing about. Syrupy sunlight.
Saffron fronds clamber
up poplar branches.
Empyrean land.
Zephyr tickles her nape; chills
up her spine. It can’t be.
You are not with her. Hope
will not disrupt her peace. Into
the forest she goes, leaves
softly crunching under her
bare feet, she rambles
through the trees, a pool
shimmers like liquid gold,
like ambrosia, sweet nectar,
water-falling, tumbling into it,
she listens to the trickle of
crystal liquid, its drip drip drip,
a dizzy echo of you in the pond; oh, it is you, you never left; she whirls around, pure ecstasy painted on her glowing visage, then–
–not you. Never you. Your ghost melts into the water. Only her diaphanous reflection stares back at her, never-smiling, gray again, never free, no Never-land. Runaway lost girl, forever-astray, slips into the water.
Adrift.
Another soul lost to Asphodel.
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Riona is a high-school junior from Maryland. When she's not writing, Riona enjoys drawing, painting, and playing instruments.