RAPE

Her body’s stiffened, her body

motionless,

like a bruised moon, leaking

in a glass jar, her body

sunk in disgrace.

A taste of rust in her mouth,

she attempts to deny the afternoon,

as the sun fomented her soul,

scorched her stretched out thighs

and the knife to her neck.

It’s flat her body, flat

with no breast her body

no loins left

no pubis in her body,

hunk up and dried up, her body

caught in a curse.

Relentlessly runs the tattered reel

of the crime in her head:

the door is crushed open the door

and she’s knocked in the nape

she’s hit and her dress is sundered

and there’s his sweat and dribbling gums

and the knife

and the seizure beneath her venter & the thrusts

gash her up

gash up her life

tear her up from herself.

From now on

she’ll wear her apron of pain.

She’ll wear pity on her eyelids.

She sees the hell-hound in her sleep.

She feels his body infesting her

and she wakes up howling

her endless delirium.

Mario Azzopardi