It settles around my face
A black, lacey veil, coquettish, at first.
It settles and starts to cling
The slight breeze of bantering light
Not enough to ruffle it anymore…
It settles and begins to constrict
Tightening so that it is no longer possible
To push my fingers between it’s black iron lace
And the lily livered skin of my neck.
The veil wants to become a shroud.
In utter terror, I look round to see what’s tightening
This sweet little noose round my neck
Imagine my surprise when it’s my hand
Holding that length of rope
Just long enough to hang myself