the moon, a gaping hole
punched through the black-purple sky
sheds light exposing
crimson smears
from fingers
to lips
leaving trails
of things lost
again.

snarl.

iron metal
and magnolias
twist and turn
as he throws burrs at me
getting them stuck
in my hair
the irritating teeth causing
knot after knot
after knot
among blonde-brown strings
impossible to untangle.

...how could you even know what a whisper sounds like?