I am I am I am. I am my thoughts and it seems all I know is water.

Something is floating on the water...a sad little mannequin doll. Her eyes are closed and everything else as well. She has everything to hide and exposes nothing. Certainly she must be plain, her skin the colour of fresh linens, without blemish or scarring leaves no mark to tell her story. Her lips, though, are stained the colour of blood...all that can be known is that the secret she hides inside is there. What it is no one could ever fully understand. She wears a black funeral dress of velour and lace...with bell sleeves adorned with black lace and a full skirt with a black lace hem and a v-neck that decides to cover her, also collared in black lace. She wears knee-length black boots with it, with six-inch heels, and black lace undergarments. Her hair is both black and copper, with tender ringlets shaping it from scalp to ends, with meet her shoulders.

I recognise her...I don't know where from. She remains so familiar, yet she is a stranger to me...perhaps my spirit is here to die with me in such strange waters, so black and unyielding.