she
lay on the ground with
nothing
to support her head;
her
long black hair
caressing
yesterday’s gentlemen’s
mud
and dirt.
she
poked her fore-finger out
from
her tiring left hand,
lifting it up at the sky
she stutters,
“Look.”
as sticks
and stones kissed her,
“Are you watching this?”
she
asks to the faces in the clouds.
the
handlers of the blows
take
a step back.
“Help me.” she
says
“Please.”
she pleads.
like
the soldiers on command
the
handlers break her raised arm;
disgust
by her pleads
and in
fury,
as
she was not touching their feet, yet.
they
tossed and turned her,
‘til
she lost control over her body.
until, her head dangled.
until,
her eyes were wide enough
to
capture the carnival over her spilled blood
and
of the dazed and bored spectators,
the
men in suit and the men with buttons,
to project
it on the cinemascope screen
if
the faces in the cloud
had
put their eyes on ice.
Points: 2321
Reviews: 122
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