Asphyxiation
Was how
She met her end
At the hands
Of a jealous lover;
Her own black stockings
Drawn tight
Around her neck,
And her naked body,
Dumped carelessly
In some roadside ditch.
“Bitch!” he’d said,
Then fled up North,
His car racing along,
And he taking no note
Of the passing view
Of fields or trees
Or the deep blue
Spread out sky.
But occasionally,
She’d appear
Sitting beside him
In the car,
The face pale,
The large eyes,
That dark brown,
Gazing at him,
With those pink
Painted lips
Parted as if
To speak,
But only a sigh came
That filled the car
Like a slow
Deflating tyre.
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list






