she said she liked the green coat
as she sat drinking tea
recovering
after cutting the grass
her face no sign
of the murder beneath
in silence I watched the fly walk
across that orange and red carpet
I wanted nothing
only that cream flesh
that half smiling mouth
that spiteful mouth
everything in love counts for nothing
if you to the one you love are nothing
as nothing is enough
to the lover loved
dead horses win no races
the window frames need some paint
they are peeling
the faded white
revealing the dark beneath
and the rot
I suppose they were last touched many years ago