Dear Empire,
       

These are your jellyfish. They are the artist's obsession. The way their
forms are taken by tides. Pulled towards the shore or towards some
unknowing place. Our beaches are cursed by thousands of these little
ghosts.

Yet she fills her canvases with their clear and brilliant orbs. Occasional
tendrils seem to slide off the edge. Their little hidden fires. Their little
underneath parts papering the dark.

To have a mind as hers. To have an eye that understands the little
shocks beneath. To consider that these ghosts have such an edge. Such
a sting.

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Copyright © 2014 Oliver de la Paz All rights reserved
from Post Subject
The University of Akron Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission