Home Poetry To the Devil in the White City

To the Devil in the White City

by Stephanie Alfaia
I don’t feel regret
remorse is far from me, you see.
Ophelia – am I?
forbidden by reason to pursue…
Beheld by a moment,
trusting in a futile lullaby you whispered
only to find an empty room,
a nunnery scene where they all knew, 
all except me.
I don’t feel pity
the rumbling in my soul will not feel sorrow
Ophelia, am I?
stricken with the unfortunate burden
of loving too – wholly, quickly, deeply…
Twirling daisies with my fingertips
recalling your index finger tracing my spine
yet I look to the heavens and curse the divine – 
why not me?
I don’t feel anger
Furrowed brows yet a soft stare
Ophelia, I am! 
Naive and stubborn, emotional and optimistic
childlike, so you say,
but darling devil, I would rather feel 
the weight of the universe
than go another empty day 
in this glorious white city.

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