Breach

Somewhere in the wilderness Mystique
Resides a pool.
More broad than deep,
More still than frothy white,
A simple splash of sorrow that reflects,
Reflects like eyes of glass or polished stone,
Sorrow spilled upon obsidian bones.

Somewhere in the city of Duluth
Resides a girl.
She knots and weaves
A rope of shredded books,
A rope of drowsy hours and lecture sweat.
It weaves around her waist and then her chest,
A snarl of paper ivy on her breast.

Somewhere on the faultline of I Am
She crashes through,
She claws through the
Crevasse into Mystique,
She sips the sapphire poison of the pool.
Her rope constricts, she smiles and is still,
While ripples spread and vanish…