Translucent. Opaque. Translucent. Opaque.
Ah...She so nearly knew you.
Such false pretences. Legitimately fake,
The illocutionary act: I Do.
Castles built in sand, but the water wouldn't take,
Except it did turn her a little blue
About the gills, with her fish shake
Cold... She never did find the true
Meaning of her feelings. Blake
Confided in her, he knew,
Oh for God's sake,
All this searching, soul wrenching hullabaloo!

HAIL Matrimony, made of Love! Through
This the morning splits her wake,
With black, cut-paper people: two;
The mind of a plughole, she was swallowed by the lake.
A piece of Plath, a shred of Smith, a memory of Maya Angelou.

Ceri Harwood