on the moist soil, quiet, spread out
there laid a corpse with hair pulled out
with needle marks under the night sky
with rotting skin in short supply

her socks, half off, meant as a punchline
were taken in as a conclusive sign
that this was not a case to close
until revenge perspired repose

with haste, her parts were sewn together
and dragged through previously-described weather
up into the house from where she fled
unwrapped and throw across the bed

and there, they waited, on two sides of life
for a return from peace to strife
in hope that back amidst mistrust
two could unbuild the wall of lust