Scarlet flame

The pressure of her fingertips on her cheek

The sound of her heart that beats

She took the corner of her sleeve

And wiped the mirror, to see herself clearly again

She wore the pearl necklace and the lacy dress

And walked her fingers on her pale flesh

The nape of her neck, and the corners of her cherry stained lips

As if she tried to remember a dream or a sketch long forgotten

Papers and dark ink were spilled

on an olive-stained desk

She bent over it

Her skin bled blood and her heart bled whims

But her soul bled words express an absurd

want of meaning

Through the open door there came

The heavy scent of the pouring rain

could it erase

The scars on her wrist?

beneath that soft skin

Between ribs

There’s pain that soared slowly 

To reach her heart

And seeped into her nights, her days

Like a stinging haze

Now

She feels like a stranger in her own skin

Like  a strangled bird with broken wings

She held the cup, half full, half empty

And drank it all at once

She was filled with awe

When the water tasted so sour 

And now it’s in her blood

It’s bitter, she shivered

She tangled her hair into a braid

With ornaments and blue satin rubans

The room grew dimmer

Soon she would be a corpse laying under the flowering grasses

In a grave that will bear blossoms of scarlet flame 

She shall not feel the rain

She shall not see the shadows

She shall not hear the hummingbirds

Sing on with grace

With her strained heart, she laid

A faint blush came to her cheeks

Then a quick breath parted the petals of her lips.