Cordelia my dearest,
The azure of your eyes, vivacious like the ultramarine waves of the oceans bespangled with golden speckles as the amber of the sun rays plunge themselves into your iris’,
Your saccharin, honeysuckle melody cascading into ears of sea creatures rendering them sanguine, jaunty adorbs.
The streaks of desiccated carmine on your arm glint like the bright scarlet and chartreuse of blended valour and amiability, igniting enamours like virus’.
Unyielding and flamboyant undeniably so you are, your heart is still porcelain fragile with pelting rancid rancour of locutions but still, beating amiably with tainted hope like budding patches of forbs.
Cordelia my dearest,
Your satin monofin flapping like wings of exuding ambrosia sapphire, taming the water till it claims you its proprietor.
You wrap all your creatures around your finger laying kisses atop their heads akin to weightless, ivory feathers brushing across from one to another.
The ivory of your hair, embellished with cyanic edges pirouettes in the breeze while you lay asleep on glowing obsidians; observing you would render the world a little quieter.
Most perceptibly in an ultramarine stretch of water dappled with the diamonds of ivory, glinting stars, you’re a fulminating supernova of turquoise and sapphire.
Cordelia, oh my dearest of all,
Must you transfer sears of the agonies of love to the pumping organ in my chest, entangling my heartstrings only to end up throttling itself as it bleeds out all blood till I’m deemed a congealed, stone of a corpse?
Must you command my quavering fingers to writhe as they pine to run through the ivory of your hair and the pearl of your skin, and the fuchsia of your lips till they claim them as theirs?
Must you cram my agonizing heart between the longing for a taste of your fuchsia lips and the smudges of the bleeding sham of it all? Exhaustion, exhaustion, exhaustion! Alas, my organ warps.
Oh Cordelia, the lovely daughter of the sea,
Too late was I too to realize that you were just a cacophony of words from my air-castle musings deviating me to mania as they promised to smear cobalt on my bloodstained, pierced soul?
Shame!
In the end you’re always a guide to sorcery inked in cobalt that an amber page of age-long witchcraft books still bears.
~ Riddhi Chakraborty
Notes: This poem was written in collaboration with one of my friends wherein she created an artwork based on my OC- Shamrock and I, a poem on hers- Cordelia. Do check out her Instagram profile via the link: https://www.instagram.com/theothergirls.art/
Swan's Labyrinth 