Paramour

Among the eloquence of a moonlit path

Slumbers a lady deep in pensive thought

Her breath a sour rapping laugh

Ethereal voice a tragedy being wrought

The powdered wigs and robes of black,

Tied her arms and held her back

Their actions she could not evade

So she held to her throat a shining blade

“You are of guilty presence here”

One voice condemned with a balmy sneer.

“This action isn’t venerable in holy eyes,

Therefore in a coffin you are deemed to lie”

“It was my lover!” Spoke she in utter shame.

“It is not my hands that hold the blame!”

“When he forced his breath to partake upon mine,

I turned my head, an attempt to decline”

“Then he struck my face; now a sickly green,

While his skin with sweat was alive with sheen;

I took my knife and struck him to the floor,

Where his heart shall murmur nevermore”

“You burst with boasts of guilty pride!”

One man screamed into the air

“And so your condemnation is to die,

As it is only fair”

She screamed and fought until she found,

Her arms tangled in the moonlit sheets upon the ground

And on the carpet beside her on the floor,

Was her latest paramour

Kristina Elizabeth Anderson