Rage fills my heart where love once lived
and fury moves into the room that housed the bullet.
So small the wedge that pierced her heart.
So complete my loss,
that humanity bails
leaving her behind,
still warm,
(so warm)
a gift for the gods
though they don’t deserve her.
Like a demon hound,
I track her killer through the woods.
He’s full of words, but no remorse,
not that it would matter.
I string him up between two trees,
silence the savagery of his voice.
Then I strip him of his skin,
like pa with a summer rabbit.
Nothing survives
when rage moves in.