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Click heredragged tagged
flagged bagged
a subtle innuendo
sliding into my gut
an ice pick
sharp and round
small but long
the hole
blood barely
noticed
trickling
onto the floor
a paleness
a chill
of the will
fingertips white
internal tremors
incomprehensible
synapses
unrecognizable
to each other
and well done
the cut
the swipe
the jab
the twisting
of the ice pick
to let me know
but an effort
unworthy of her
tennis shoes
underneath
a prom dress
spinach
in the teeth
of her soul
and there
the wound
not what
she did to me
but that it
was she
who did it