there is the moment
when the other shadow
slips too close
the legs quickens their pace
left right left right left right
breathe in.
hold.
glance
leftrightleftrightleftright
all the while
streetlights tower like
dead jack-o-lanterns
chanting mantras
don’t look back
shadows converge
strong hands circle the neck
the body
jerks, strains, finally folds
a rag doll with closed hands
and a stitched mouth…
she hurls screams
into blackness
but her mouth betrays her
the stitches hold
and her eyes will not close
there is picture but no sound;
movement but no chorus
frantically she bucks her straw hips
to dislodge the dead weight
that suffocates her
but there is only the
whiplash of bone
cutting through silence
all that is left
is the ringing;
the reverberations
from the pavement
echoing
“you bitches are all the same.”
