The Deed

local charlotte poetry - the deed

The reddened scratches across my back
were borne during our ecstasy—
a tumultuous affair of passion and pain.

When we first met,
You told me I was devastatingly pretty.
I would be your downfall.

The lust was an abyss of uncertainty,
and I struggled to comprehend this chasm.

My heart was shattering from the weight of my affection for you.
I feared your love is just a trailer of tragedy waiting.

You were patient as you watched me
tremble in your grasp—
my pleading eyes crying out as you
strangled me into silence.

You buried me among the beech trees.
The clumps of dirt cradled among your fingertips—
the earthy scent a reminder of your deed

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