It must have been some party,
Chairs overturned
A window or two lying
out on the lawn,
a disarray of bottles
and life’s accumulated
possessions.
‘No nothing wrong here
Just people going a bit wild,
Sorry for any upset
To others, really
Nothing to see here.’
A friend intervenes
with words of
desperate concern.
The bruises to her torso
Are revealed reluctantly,
where hidden, is an amalgam
of so much violence.
A canvass of yellow and blue,
black and purple.
He was an artist
of such passion and
careful design and detail.
Well practiced, brutally
honest and focused.
Relying on his muses
capacity to suffer.
And she had
she did
She would.