by Tori Lee
Iridescent decay, scale of jade;
a gangrenous mermaid.
Vulgar reverie in oceanography,
with abyssal certainty
in her aquatic circuitry.
Some thought her colors too bright.
She was thusly dried of all might,
bathed in their angry sunlight
to bleach the protists from her reef.
When men heard her chorus sweet,
they were moved to spill
blooms of oil-slick flowers at her feet.
A goddess of the torrid water forest.
An eerie seafoam queen with
clean, saltwater scream.
Inherited obligation and Neptunian disposition.
She: a bone-cold ghost to float
along these harrowed, white-gold coasts.
Too tempting, her precious bounties,
for the mass of hungry men.
They took up rigid poles to
fish her fertile fields without end.
Now: her heart a bruised fruit,
a fluid-filled prune;
nothing left but a billowing black plume.
Faith yet to wake, a wave yet to break.
Tori “Nothing” Lee is a former foster youth, artist, and writer residing in the Antelope Valley. After working as a children’s book illustrator for a time, she turned her focus to writing and began pursuing an English degree. Her creative outlets have served to help crystallize and dissect difficult memories and emotions from both her childhood and adult life. On Instagram @bruised_fleshgod.
