Monday, February 9, 2009


She touched the spot tenderly,
caressingly, almost lovingly,
The color rose in her cheek.
She could not help but watch herself in the mirror.
The sight of her graceful white hand on the spot mesmerized her.
The skin beneath her fingers seemed to be warmer each moment,
Her eyes shone with excitement and just a tinge of fear.
If he walked in now and saw her like this, he was apt to do most anything,
She took her hand away and looked again at her reflection.
The place was red and tender.
She could see the outline of his fingers.
She picked up her makeup, and in slow motion, began to cover the bruise.

copyright 1997 Sharlene Thornton

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