My fingers itch to dip this moment in resin.
Cut it out and wear it.
I want these colours against my skin.
Tangled in my hair.
I want their stillness,
Depth and vibrancy.
I could lie amongst them,
Pale skin against dark water.
Dark hair floating amongst golden leaves.
A modern Ophelia.
A painting to be hung in a gallery,
For small children to skip past.
Instead I take a photo and walk on.