Is It Poetry
On The Death and Rape Of A Younger Woman
Mazes of trails only they know.
Where some go the blind,
Isles of cardboard boxes,
an empty package.
The empty horse,
Black and white grainy pictures.
A blue blow fly sits,
in the corner of her eye.
Clothing scattered throughout,
across and around.
A young teenage girl not a man.
laying in the snow, purple blue.
They quietly got on and off.
In a hurry.
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