Ophelia and Other Forces by Nichole McElhaney
I want to believe Ophelia rose from that watery grave
— spitting pearls and teeth —
hell-bent on strangling a kingdom that overlooked
the nocuous nature of a wildflower girl.
Name your daughter Lilith and tell her she belongs to no man.
Tell her names have power.
Tell her she’s a force to be reckoned with.
I think the women before
me carried a sorrow in
their bones that
and left me with an
aftertaste that I can’t
By: Nichole McElhaney
Follow Nichole: @nicholemcelhaneypoetry