Olivia Eberwein, Senior, Biology, Fort Worth, TX
Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?
Thy face is red, a roses flush
Thy eyes drop the dew of the morn
Wet petals wilt thy lips of lush
And ground poinsettias paint thy cheeks adorned.
Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?
With eyes immersed in purple shade,
Thy mouth drips a waterfall of scarlet haze
Thy lips tremble as the rivers cascade
And thy eyebrows are lost in thy wandering gaze.
Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?
With smooth skin of the whitest pearls
And a marble neck, kissed by the lips of man
Covered in brown long runlets of silk curls
That end where thy breasts began.
Why do you cry so, Woman of Blue?
Thy flesh entangled in that mirthless root
Thy toes enthralled in that festering dirt
Where plants are unable to bear fruit
And women decay and women hurt.
I cry for the women the river stole
The ones he liked and swallowed whole
Consumed they were in the rivers lust
Eroding their souls into dust.
The rivers’ name shan’t ever be said
The lips that dare whisper will soon be dead
But he won’t allow us to slip away
Rather under his water he wants to play.
The sickest of games you could ever divine
As he whips and lashes and gulps his wine
Dark red flows down his lips and mine
But mine has not altered his absent spine.
These bones went missing long before I
Before he threw me from his river to die
Along with the others’ who wouldn’t comply
And this, poor girl, is why I cry.