Veni Scripsi Vici
NOTES: I'm back! Sorry for my lack of updating due to my idiot computer. I've been busy writing away over spring break and I've got some good stuff coming up! This particular piece is a poem about/inspired by The Talented Mr. Ripley. It takes place after the end of the movie. Yes, Peter dies. I don't do AU. Please review!
It Would Be Beautiful
He sees small clouds, trying to hide the stars.
Like he hides everything.
He feels the gentle rocking of the ferry.
rocking,
rocking,
rocking them all to sleep.
He hears the water lapping against the ferry's side.
Quiet splashing.
Nearly speaking.
He smells the salt in the air.
It's almost comforting.
Almost.
He tastes the salt now, but now, it isn't from the ocean.
Salt from blue eyes.
To anyone else, it would be beautiful.
Gorgeous.
Not for the murderer.
Not for the cloud.
He doesn't see it.
All he sees are empty green eyes.