Woven Weeds

Lying in the weeds,

Back to the damp earth,

Blue eyes reflecting the sky,

Her hair strewn across the stems,

Rain begins to fall from the reflected,

It splatters across her olive skin,

Melting her away,

She molds into the ground,

The water stops descending,

And it appears as if nothing had happened,

Then a woman with ivory skin glides in slowly,

She lays down,

Her back to the weeds too,

A blank expression and blue eyes to match the last's,

The waterfall begins again,

Her body disintegrates slowly,

She seeps through the dirt,

Blending in beneath the weeds