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.