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."