she had such beautiful thoughts.
“open her head, I will, and paint the whole
world with those pretty colors,” he said one day.
so with gray cinderblock-heaviness he
oh-so-smashed in the fragile pink as she slept
all beside him, love and trust and softness.
he found only gray pasty flesh;
red-red blood on his once-beautiful hands.
now her thoughts are prettier than ever.
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