Countess

I made the headlines,

spotted, caught on camera;

modern day smartphones

are my nemesis,

stalking me with flashy filters,

showcasing Tudor dresses

disharmoniously in 2022 images;

the press rumble,

print a half-name,

clutching at straws,

tendrils of identity,

slinking as pondweed

through curious fingers.

Previous centuries were easier:

I’d hover in moonlight,

glide staircases leisurely,

portrait myself in framed windows,

run ghostly hands over bridges

to no recognition, no clicks,

but now technology cloisters me

sinking me to darkened depths,

where I wallow in the moat

like a rusted penny

dropped into a wishing well

curling with enraged roots.

My figure tells my shame,

a rounded eight-month belly

protrudes from swelling tides

with the ghoul of a newborn

perpetually encircling my womb

as a ghostly coiled snake;

its skin has shedded many times

always growing back

as blooms of a first kiss

in my shrouded memory.

The unborn hates me...

I sense her distaste

spinning in a circuitous jail

bruised by watery shackles

bored beyond belief:

restless as a flightless heron,

talons mud-slick thick,

frowning in dismay.

The night I flung myself

blinded by infatuation

from the twisted tower,

jilted, loved no longer

while he writhed with a new lover

amidst hot-sweat sheets;

no longer holding his gaze -

love splintered, fractured to shards

like my handheld mirror

dissipating to glassy echoes.

I couldn’t swim,

I planned it all.

In the afterlife,

I course the moat

like a hellfire nymph

dispatching flecks of flames

in my watery wake;

I float, waterborne

as a damnable fairy,

weightless, supernatural.

as the stirrings in the west-wing...

Media interest piques

brewed by my frenzy,

so sightings multiply.

I turn over new leaves...

Prolonged despondency mutes

no longer festering

in darkened depths

wallowing and water-weary;

I now smile at the camera

cherishing attention

growing boldly boisterous,

relishing the limelight

(pretending to be coy)

as I twirl golden Tudor threads

between reawakened fingers.