stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 21670
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2021-06-18 09:03:47
    [post_date_gmt] => 2021-06-18 09:03:47
    [post_content] => I’m tracing the pressed flower on the page,
dipping fragile sunrise, the place
where we could be two angels.

See, we wanted that paradise:
two girls lying in the woods,
safe in the cocoon of friendship,
like they’re both fated for
each other, not
pursued, not men pushing out the lines,
just Hermia and Helena.

We could feign it like the May field whispered,
mixing colors, hands, moons.

What I would give to be fair for you:
dark hair and angles, fierce and sacred,
eyes like lodestars shining. Translated.

Instead, we sit the silence, watch the play.

The grim suitors mock me,
copying out their tragic histories,
then, worse, they stay.

We aren’t chiasmus, weren’t cliché.
So quick, bright things fall to confusion, anyway.


    [post_title] => An Edict In Destiny (Or: Helena Looking Back)
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
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    [post_name] => an-edict-in-destiny-or-helena-looking-back
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    [post_modified] => 2021-06-18 09:03:47
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2021-06-18 09:03:47
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    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=21670
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    [post_type] => poems
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            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2021
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the Young Poets Network 10th anniversary challenge in 2021. This challenge offered the opportunity to respond to any previous challenge or feature published in the first ten years of Young Poets Network. Creagh Factor responded to Putting on a mask – the final Foyler August challenge.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, YPN 10 challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
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            [ID] => 21671
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Creagh Factor
            [slug] => creagh-factor
            [content] => Creagh is commended in Young Poets Network's 10th anniversary challenge.
        )

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    [ID] => 21671
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Creagh Factor
    [slug] => creagh-factor
    [content] => Creagh is commended in Young Poets Network's 10th anniversary challenge.
)

An Edict In Destiny (Or: Helena Looking Back)

Creagh Factor

I’m tracing the pressed flower on the page,
dipping fragile sunrise, the place
where we could be two angels.

See, we wanted that paradise:
two girls lying in the woods,
safe in the cocoon of friendship,
like they’re both fated for
each other, not
pursued, not men pushing out the lines,
just Hermia and Helena.

We could feign it like the May field whispered,
mixing colors, hands, moons.

What I would give to be fair for you:
dark hair and angles, fierce and sacred,
eyes like lodestars shining. Translated.

Instead, we sit the silence, watch the play.

The grim suitors mock me,
copying out their tragic histories,
then, worse, they stay.

We aren’t chiasmus, weren’t cliché.
So quick, bright things fall to confusion, anyway.