Offering

Let me set you alight 

douse you in petrol

strike a match

carry your charred bones 

in my macabre procession 

and wrap you in moss

take your eyes for baby’s breath. 

I’ll send you floating 

like fair Ophelia 

down the river

to make life of your death 

to create a home for the cold-blooded 

in the chest I once rested upon. 

I must ask now, 

lover, 

why your affections lead me to such

visceral imaginings. 

I wish so desperately, 

I had a god to pray to,

maybe then my piety could 

sway my violent persuasion

and instead of decay I could offer 

lush green at your altar, nourish your soul. 

Until then,

I’ll take and burn your bones, 

and use your ash

to fertilise my good green Earth

​

By Olive Mccoy 

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