In a Moonlit Room

In the pounding

and the deep voices

and the lights

you lay on the hard bed I shoved you on.

 

In a room lit by the moon

and a tee tree candle

I see you

crumpled into the ball I put you in.

 

Ripples tremble

through the pool of blood

at the foot of your bed

and I see

 

purple welts

on the pale skin

that stretches around

your tooth pick arms.

 

Through your whimpers

and the pounding

and the voices

 

I heard the floor boards creek

as I backed away from your bed.

 

By the lights

and the moon

and the blood

 

I saw my hands – bleached

and silhouettes of guns.

 

Handcuffs choked

the wrists that bruised you

as they dragged me

out of your room.

 

Your small face

flickered in the candlelight

stained and weathered

and yet you screamed

— AC

Photo Credit: National Geographic

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