“Here lies one whose name was writ in water” - epitaph of John Keats

I feel like aquamarine blue When it crashes in waves of ashen white bursts

Unto the force of exquisite softness I surrender myself

Where the riptide majestic pulls me under Into the deep indigo depths

The falling is lustrous and woven in silk I am immersed in the churning storm of it

And when flashes of unlaced memories Convoke my body once more

They are a murmuration of Egret Orchids come alive To drown me each time

“Here lies one whose name was writ in water” - epitaph of John Keats

I feel like aquamarine blue When it crashes in waves of ashen white bursts

Unto the force of exquisite softness I surrender myself

Where the riptide majestic pulls me under Into the deep indigo depths

The falling is lustrous and woven in silk I am immersed in the churning storm of it

And when flashes of unlaced memories Convoke my body once more

They are a murmuration of Egret Orchids come alive To drown me each time

“Here lies one whose name was writ in water” - epitaph of John Keats

I feel like aquamarine blue When it crashes in waves of ashen white bursts

Unto the force of exquisite softness I surrender myself

Where the riptide majestic pulls me under Into the deep indigo depths

The falling is lustrous and woven in silk I am immersed in the churning storm of it

And when flashes of unlaced memories Convoke my body once more

They are a murmuration of Egret Orchids come alive To drown me each time