POEM — She

Her hands cradled the glass of red warmth

Blood no longer flowed from his veins

But –

His still beating heart staggered and stopped, starting again in an irregular rhythm;

She smiled

Down at his near-corpse;

And tipping her head toward the moon,

Launched into song so beautiful,

So ancient,

So rich in silvery tones,

That only the creatures of the night

Understood what she was.

*

Carly Zee, is poet and writer and lover of the finer things in life – like good wines, dark chocolate and erotica. She finds herself seeking pleasure over reason on far too many occasions, and, will in all likelihood, continue to do so. You can find Carly at https://carlyzee.wordpress.com/