The burden of a confession
Bound to her flesh
In moments,
Disordered images,
In a story she wills untold:
Blood roses.
The turn of a key in the lock.
The smell of terror.
A lamp,
Just out of reach.
Words clench. Bowels flinch. Raw.
Recounted matter-of-factly
Like a trip to the grocery store –
Loss of innocence.
*
vic briggs 
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Love words clench. Bowels flinch.
Thank you, Irene. At times visceral emotions are the most difficult to portray.
A potent piece. Is this how all life is?
Thank you, Chris. I don’t know if I dare to try and answer that question…
So sad, so profound
Thank you, Aisha. I ought to come and visit your oasis more often for a slice of happiness.
A telling write, Vic. Very good.
Thank you, Richard. Sorry it took me a while to reply: holiday business. Hope you are well.
Just got in from my own holiday business (four hours in a chicken mask at my little nieces LOL great fun)
That sounds like the best way to spend the holiday 🙂
Very very good Vic.
Thank you, Lance. I almost did not post it in view of the holidays (its mood and message are far from celebratory).