Narcissus, poetry by Julia Townson at Spillwords.com
Annie Spratt

Narcissus

Narcissus

written by: Julia Townson

 

The early morning air pushes away the heaviness of the night with its light yet floral scent.
The rising sun casts a rosy hue across my body.
I am clothed only in the deliciously fragrant scent of the golden dawn.
Beautiful, floriferous daffodils swaying to and fro in the gentle breeze.
Spicy, yet sweet, with a faint vanillic undertone.
I am sister to Narkissos, handsome young hunter so enamored by his own beauty, that he drowned in a pool of his reflection.
Out of the shadow of his death grew the narcissus flower.
Elegant daffodils adorned with pristine white petals.
The air is suddenly thick and oppressive, weighing heavily on my shoulders.
The sun’s dying rays illuminate the wrinkles, the passage of time has left.
Tears flow freely down my ashen face, echoing loudly as they fall to the ground, forming a pool of shame and of regret.
Drip
Drip
Drip
I am my brother’s sister.

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