 |
|
| Outside, wind is playing big-cat games, crouching low to stalk the air close to the ground while blackbird dives from roof to sky and back again, challenging the wind to come much closer, if it dare. Elsewhere, in the stream of morning-after sickness, scented coffee-warmth spirals in and out of last night�s memories of abuse, as you told me how he�d raped you, invaded, ripped and opened every cell. |
| Inside, guts consumed themselves in pain, a writhing nest of vipers coiling and uncoiling, strangling dreams i had at last allowed to breathe the air of possibility that things would be alright. |
| The roar and hum of battle between big-cat wind and small-prey air screamed around my yard as you told me everything about his demon, how it wakened every time he touched you, and how you�d tried to end it quietly, knowing that if you unleashed the power within, you would surely kill them both ~ which you did. |
| He never saw the bloodstains in your mind or realised that you were vomiting his darkness from your throat after he had finished, as you crouched and sobbed heart-pieces from your gaping chest onto the polished wooden stairs where he denounced your love, even as he died. |
| *image: susan boulet |
 |