My limbs scream
as each bruise pleads
for mercy that will not come

It is not the raised hand
or the strategic swing of a fist
that cries for my attention

It is the gentle trace
of his fingers against my skin
Stuck in a moment
Where I could not ignore
His desire burning into me

Time and time again
Smouldering
Until I am nothing more
than ashes
He scatters
with vacant breath...

~ Shae Leigh
Through a hazy 3am veil 20th-April-2001

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