Widowmaker
Scars resemble the wilderness.
A marbling of reflected light.
Obscure and perfect she floated to me.
My fancies are as noble as a tree.
Smoke pouring from his split lips, crackling and cackling.
She drank his remedy of silence and spit once more that night.
Her rusted joints couldn't take it anymore: She pushed paralyze and watched his blood spread across the floor. "She is made in a dark light, an afterthought, a second solution after the first one had failed."