Ophelia holds flowers as she drowns;
She's plucked and killed and buried them with her...

Ophelia

I knew you ineffably, like exposed
bones. There was comfort in the pain, knowing
you (who was invisible) were with me.
Forgotten feelings swept silently through
Like sap spilling out the aged oak tree...

I Thought of Grief

the consummation of two vessels
is dangerous only when sight blinks into focus,
all hell revealed. little archangel of
the girls damned existence for milk of the Earth-mother;
they cut up Bacchus, whiskey, cradle—

Sacha Chafer-Budeiri

Selected work