The young man next door
is burning the girl again
and telling me and everyone else
what she did to wrong him.
Her screams are heard down the street,
begging with all her strength,
while he checks his pager
and chases her down without guilt.
He carries a lit cigarette
and a black lighter,
both of which carry her doom.
His eyes widen as he leans toward her.
My head is heavy
and I contemplate what to do.
My reactions are groggy,
I don’t want to intrude.
Before I reach for a phone,
the noise stops.
Silence tells us that she is safe.
Injured and scarred, but no longer in fear.
The young man relaxes with his pager.
He is tired and satisfied.
The hour’s work is fulfilled
and the girl nurses her wounds.
Created: Jul 25, 2010Document Media