We stand knee deep
the rivers of all the worlds overlapped
and overlaid and
lapping at our skin.
Three worlds are crossed at this river bend;
the milky currents tender as old man’s beard.
We rain down on the water
for we are water
bean sídhe heaving and wailing and tearing at our reddened cheeks
feeding our tears to the deep.
My sisters and I
we see your heart-loss beckoning you
flirting with you
across the edges between, the spaces in the slip of things
stepping soft like starlight, or pollen, or the tender moment before a kiss –
We see the splutter of your loss in your future like a supernova
so loud and bright and choking
it splits our ribs.
Lights fling up like fireflies in your house;
you hear our keen,
and huddle in to yourself closer,
It is not us you need fear.
|Hester J. Rook is an Australian Shadows Award-winning and Rhysling Award-shortlisted poet, fiction writer, and co-editor of Twisted Moon Magazine. They are often found salt-scrunched on beaches, reading arcane tales and losing the moon in mugs of tea. Find Hester on Twitter @hesterjrook and read more poems and fiction at https://hesterjrook.com.|