Gown of blood
Lazily dressing the woman;
Smearing red water, always.
The legs she shot are rusted.
Death flooded her aching skin,
Chains sagged above her raw, white, knife ripped breasts.
She rose from behind a picture of heaving beauty,
Of boys and girls
Together in eternity,
Soaring away to skies of whispered tongues
As she leaves, but cries for drunken madness.