On a good day, there would be little blood
On a bad day, she could paint the room
Though that was a definite mistake
But then again, she was just a beginner
Not a virgin as such
She was never a virgin
The stomach was the best place to cut
It was hidden
Like the guilt
Eating away everyday
Birthdays were the worst
His special occasion
You didn’t bleed so much from the stomach
The pain was also stronger
But it was a nice sort of pain
It belonged to her
The years had passed
Seemed strange
One more special occasion
The grandkids had never met him
They watched as the curtain closed on him forever
She turned away
Unconsciously touching her stomach.