bound by blood

red ribbons

that had held her hair,

a cloak of black engulfs

her head—

blinding her eyes,

stifling her pleas

as she awaits the next touch

of his cold blade. She feels

only her naked

skin and open wounds,

cold and hot,

but has lost the ability

to feel her body in space,

to tell if she is lying or standing

as his labored

breathing in her ear

and a bloody bite

tell of his return,

she drifts to her childhood

“Never talk to strangers”

at seventeen she thinks she is too

young to die

but knows she soon will