Meet Me in the Woods

*jane, by the river.

in the early splinters of dawn,
at 5:32 in the morning,
they found a body
in the river.

the soles of her bare feet
mimicked the likeness
of a slaughtered fish;
crude, harsh cuts
her blood still turning
the water pink.

i wondered who she was.
i wondered how long she ran.
i wondered when she fell for the last time.

autumnal frost held her stiff, pale fingers
like the arms of a lover.
her brown eyes stared blankly
donned in drug store mascara
falling in clumps
into the spaces between the stones.
ice had begun to reclaim
her chest and stomach,
immortalizing her where she lay.

i wondered if someone had kissed her yesterday.
i wondered what creatures swam past her
as she died.
i wondered if they'd known.

she'd already begun to bear the river's face;
her cheeks were
blue and green with bruises.
her chapped lips red with blood.
the running water played
with her soil black hair.

i walked to the shore,
treading warily.
i knelt down beside her pale,
soaked corpse
illuminated by morning light,
trapped in a plastic body bag.

and i asked her:

where did you go?

what did you see?