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When Time Bled

Muniza Tariq

She heard his roar from last afternoon.
She saw his eyes, the two dark moons, swallowing her gaze, licking her face.
She felt his two hands like two hearts, beating all over her, inside and beyond.
He was right there, as was the mole on his nape, glistening like a misplaced crown.
There, she saw him blowing her a kiss.
With a lazy smile, she lifted her hand to catch it and rubbed it on her heart,
waiting for the dawn and him.

When the dawn did knock, it was all alone.
Crisp blank like a blind gaze, it brought no one along.
It bore nothing like a baby’s mind but for a butcher’s cleaver,
and struck her down.

A dagger scraped her bubbly throat, two nails were hammered in her eyes.
With every blow, they burst into white fireworks.
A scimitar freed her hands from her shoulders, her nails were twirled and pulled.
Her chest exploded like a fountain of raw shreds.
She could see her bits and pieces raining down on her.
Sloppy, sticky and slow, they dripped to the floor - a squishy mess like a vulture’s left overs.

Two knives flew into her ears, and clashed in the centre of her head.
She could hear her nerves twinging apart, cascading from her nose.
Soon, her breath smelled like a slaughter house as she lay butchered and spilled.
Slowly, life leaked out of her as time bled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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