Anna Poem by Katelyn Hinman

boat stave ribs and thin jutting hips
a cacophony of defiled desire
heaving through pretty pale blooming lips
she writhes alone on the funeral pyre

a skeletal frame and a quivering chest
penetrate confines of lackluster skin
grey macabre clouds foreshadow her rest
as she waits for the imminent to begin

a prayer is muttered and a match is struck
this execution painstakingly planned
delicate eyelids flutter and she ceases to buck
effaced by society's palsied hand