She was a dainty delicacy.
He was a fine piece of craftsmanship.
She was a rupture, an injury snagged
on her ankle, dragging her down.

That's what he told them,
that's why she was so easy to taste.
She knew this, so instead of stretching the ache,
she curls up into a bawl and tears her skin
trying to find the tainted blood buried in her flesh.