is a place without flaws.
Like a rare bird, breathtakingly
her exquisite face with its perfect skin
perched for an instant at
the receiving end of her jealous husbands fist.
paint dried and suddenly
a finally complete impeccable holding back and dividing up.
moment, she enamored with
white and unused. Perfect unison. Different keys.
paint dried and this first unblemished moment
of pure roomnessas yet unsquandered
in the mind on the artifacts of refuge
or lonelinesswas also the first note
a long Adagio of downfall that then proceeded
through picture hangings, mouse chewings,
foundation shifts, and the bleedings and skull-impacts
of a womans head against the wall.
walls that severed a person so cleanly from
the outside became entrances for the cackling, dancing
advance of the fire, that witch with her infallible spell
for turning air and wood into human death.
The whole house burned
to the ground
with her husband inside it and no one the wiser
and even some insurance money icing the cake
because her scheme had been foolproof.
Almost everything recognizably
human had been charred
and seared from the body, she learned, except for
the horrifying contortions of limbs and neck, which remained
pressed forever into the exacting mold of the final agony,
the final agony of her
who she didnt know had been asleep in the guest room
having arrived for a surprise visit that would have
been the perfect birthday gift for her.
Odds against such a double jackpot:
|The days passed (precisely||)|
and distance and accumulation
she aimed her car at the guardrail
because she could no longer live with so much