Confronting Hamlet

The stars dip with a promise of a wish
and brave Ophelia slips into the dark
water, her bright hair spread around her
like vibrating strings, a soft sweet melody
passing away into the night.

I want to confront him, this Hamlet, who
flicked her away like an annoying fly.
Did you see in her eyes the wit and
humor that you lacked? I want to whisper
slyly in his ear the details of the morning
he will wake sticky with regret.