A/N: This is a little series of poems from Helena to Myka. I think fundamentally they connect through literature and the mind. These were written to honor that idea. Please review! Thanks
Holding her gaze: a monologue
This then is all there is darling, this shadow self that screams in black "this is who you are" and nothing else has weight or sound
That which I used to know has gone with her small face, and all that remains seems black and grey. I speak again trapped in stillness for you do not seem to hear
There is nothing else but this, nothing that might save, not religion for I believe not not lovers for I've had too many
Your green eyes might have done dear, once upon a time.
When her small face moved and breathed, they would have stirred me then.
Trapped in blue
Can I appeal to your sense of justice , dear? Your clear green eyes can see all ends. No one else dared to come near the wildcat, a mistake of breeding barely restrained, intent on a clean slate. Indeed I was at the end of all things. I looked out the window of this new world and found myself Cassandra, the poor went underground to serve a new race, the sleeper woke and the utopia was where? I had spoken then, and no one listened.
Can I reach you one last time my darling my lost soul? Can your clear green eyes see beyond my snarl one last time? Ah, you are coming over. Yes please my love sit next to me. It will take all my power all my will but I see it in your eyes that I could do it. I could convince you to give me this gift, the only one you are free to give. This grieves me sweet I wanted so much more from you. It has been so long since I had the lovely dance of another woman's body and mind. But no, it's not to be. I cannot touch, I cannot translate sensations from mind to body ah, you cannot know the torment this is causing me . I turn my face up to the sun but can feel no warmth. Come closer sweet I have a boon to ask of you a boon I know you have the power to grant.
Dear Ophelia..
She is misnamed methinks. For she is no dull mineral or maid dancing on madness's edge. I shall rename her my love my sweet. For she is a jewel without price and a maid who would slay the dragons of madness without hesitation. She burns hot does my love, with righteous anger and I know that burn all too well. We are so busy trying to be visible we forget what makes us women. Ah sweet love but you need no such masks with me. You may lay your head upon my heart and close your watchful emerald eyes. I have already proven I will lift you up past all danger.