Legs tangled like the ivory lace of a dress,
A tender arm cradling my head,
Warm darkness stroking my skin,
And stars racing across the heavens.
Slice.
A sting.
Gone.
The splitting rumble of approaching thunder,
An ember behind icy eyes,
The camera flash of lightning overhead,
And shackles of muscular arms.
Slice.
A throb.
Gone.
The burn of trickling tears,
The buzz of innocence brought to an end,
A fist smashing the bars of it’s cage,
And words like whips cracking against my protruding spine.
Slice.
A gasp.
Nothing.
