The shadows swam like fish,
Brushing smooth and bone white
Against the sprinkled red darkness of this
Wailing night. My vision blurs,
Shimmering like scales that scratch
Upon my scars, making the roaring
History that haunts me a glittering
Pearl of wonder that tempts me into
Drowning once more in the rigged waters.
It sings to me, coiling a sea breeze in my blood,
The tingles swirling like a whirlpool in my stomach,
As the mirror reflects in the shadows.
Enchanting, beautiful, it lures me in.
The last thing I saw was a flurry of
Red fish that swarm around me till
Not of ink or the depths of deep sea green,
But of blood and shadows, trying to be
Beautiful as light, even though it chills
Me each lingering night. Each lingering
Night I am alive, but not survived.
Isla Walker is a young writer from southern California. Though she has been told that they were born on Earth, Isla is sure that she’s actually from a moon in a different planetary system. They love to write sci-fi, comedy, and psychological, and really love flower imagery.