Beatified

Ophelia in the water

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Beatified.

By David Milligan-Croft.

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I would wash your hair in a roll-top bath.

You, leaning forward,

Nose almost touching the fig bubbles.

.

My fingers, massaging your scalp,

Your temples, your crown – 

You deserve a crown, my Queen.

.

Combing through the conditioner.

The viscous liquid oozing through the teeth

Of the comb and your russet brown hair.

.

Leaning back, I cradle your head,

Lowering you like the baptised.

Cupping the water to stroke away the lather.

.

Your lustrous hair floating on the surface.

Eyes closed, your face framed

In a perfect oval of foam.

.

για τη δέκατη μούσα μου

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Filed under Art, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Ideas, Inspiration, love, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

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