by Melissa Frederick
She soaks up sadness with the falling rain then hurls her sodden figure at the sky: Ophelia has become a hurricane. The dead men's fingers offered her free reign to let her father squeeze her mind bone dry. She soaks up madness with the heavy rain. Now empty, she takes pleasure in refrains both harsh and fiercely sung, notes held on high. Ophelia has become a hurricane, a storm of breadth and power. Wild domains await her as she whirls around her eye. She soaks up terror. With the stinging rain, she means to plunge the vile and vicious Danes into the darkness where her sweet soul lies. Ophelia has become a hurricane, and hurricanes are roars, fists, pulsing veins, and nevermore will she, in tears, comply. She soaks up anger with the pounding rain — Ophelia has become a hurricane.
Melissa Frederick's work has appeared in numerous publications, including Mythic Delirium, Star*Line, Astropoetica, Crab Orchard Review, Philadelphia Stories, and Mid-American Review, and is forthcoming in Strange Horizons. Her poetry chapbook, She, was published by Finishing Line Press. In 2011, she was nominated for a Rhysling Award. Her favorite fruit appeared once in a dream, when she went into her backyard and found it full of mango trees. To this day, she is still searching for those sweet, ripe dream mangoes.
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