Khadijah Queen
CASSANDRA, DROWNING
The first days melt four decades of illusion.
Heat of foresight incinerates any façade
of rescue Cassandra tries clinging to,
burns her fingertips in a way
no one else can see. No one is coming
to save you, us, she knows.
We’re all on our own. Habit’s echo
ensures illusions, however, remain
active in the collective body, who perform
accordingly. Cassandra sees herself
drowning in the horror, not water.