Blade in the hand. “No” on the tongue.
Silence.
It’s not the vengeance—though that too is sweet,
an overripe peach dribble down the chin—
not catharsis violet and cream
nor anything else Clytemnestra taught us
eat hearts in the marketplace, girl
see how it soothes you.
It does not.
Photo by Gabriel Meinert on Unsplash.
Abigail E. Sims 