An amorous vignette


Her feet twitch one last time

before being stilled



A dangling reminder

that they could not move fast enough

to carry her to safety

from a man who believed

that what he felt was love.


Saddled with nothing to do

but fade from memory

and even that, stolen,

by the legends, the tales, the whispers.


Her very existence dissolved

into a symbol of her attacker’s mania.


Oh! If only she had more time.

Or a mouth to scream.