Things are never what they seem.
Play across your conscience like a dream.
A lyrical sigh released to the air
wraps around. Trap. Ensnare.
The dress is bone of who controls all-
sincere, the porcelain voodoo doll.
A young woman with a wedding ring
caresses her flat stomach and starts to sing:
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
You drowned in blood so I couldn’t keep
you died in torture, lots of pain,
unleashed a grief mummy couldn’t contain.
Now close your eyes and go to bed.
Watch as mummy loses her head.
So off rolls the adornment of her neck,
and topples the body of a beautiful wreck.
Later, feminine gasps and moans
echo to the grind of pelvic bones.
She thrusts against his stiff form
like a rocking fleet caught in a storm;
pulls back the knife at the sudden flood
and with crazed eyes laps up the blood.