Mellow winds that knot silky long
strands of buttercream blonde,
dance across your stoic face and dull,
art of death eyes that seem
to make me want to swim in
the deep ends of hell;
make me want
to drown in your tar as you play
melancholy melodies on your piano.
Each time you pass by, I am
trapped in time that freezes
and swallows me, you the rippling
light that kindles your long stature
and faint grin, swaying back and
forth till the light is extinguishes,
and all I ever see is echoing night,
resonating of your lazy,
still heart beat.
Isla Walker is a young writer from Southern California, where she attends Orange County School of the Arts for Creative Writing. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys watching emotional shojo animes and creating scenarios with her characters in her mind. Her poetry is also appearing in All Ears.