Gehenna

I met beauty once. In the eyes of my killer.
He was a shadow of masculinity towering over me.
I laid still in the abandoned wood-bank with my eager
leg perched and opening from the centre.
I heard the soft rippling echo of a single splatter
of sweat as it dripped from the curl of his lashes.
My pulsating blood caused a harmonic rustle as I swayed
slightly in the mud pool of crisp, harsh, brown leaves.
I became encompassed by the clay like mixture as he ran
his cold weapon through my body. My back arching closer
into him. His undertones drummed their way into my ears
as he clutched my neck, gripping his thumb between my teeth.
Now groin on groin, he stabilised himself with a mud-sunken
elbow. Began to interweave his fingers with mine. I failed
to notice the promise ring he gifted me for my fifteenth leaping
from my finger and clanking on the concrete. A romantic calm
took over as I watched the looming cerise sheet so delicately
marshmallowed across the horizon. His sudden reluctance then baffled me.
I attempted to put his mind at ease whispering I’ll always
be your little girl. Moments later my eyes shut and he raised
his heavy weapon into my thirsty crevice and shot me to Gehenna.

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