Dirge For A Reef Of Bleached Coral

words by Scarlet M., art by Mariam Seshan

Though you are not dead yet,

the lily-white writing is written clearly on the wall.

Your heavenly expression has turned pale like the moon

as you stand alone, eclipsed by the world around you.

Can you remember a time when it wasn’t like this,

when you were only two degrees of separation from death?

Would you have chosen to die cast in a new hue

instead of these snowy shades?

It’s all just wasted questions on deaf ears,

but looking at your spirit, stiff as stone.

I can’t help but hope your last vision

was more prismatic than pale.

I wish I could mourn you properly

but do I have the right to

when an ocean of graves lie behind you?

I don’t know

if I should bleach myself like the morning fog

or become as stained as the sunset.