Womens' Two Inch Fall

Woman scorned me when I told her 
to raise the blade she held at her neck,
a bit higher.
I scorned her when it-she rested.

I prompted her to pick it grander,
above her shell-like nose smeared in red
and pearl-like eyes, shimmerless,
and above her two intricately braided plaits.
I told her to raise it to the firmer plait above,
tying her like a noose, 
from the neck.

She bemoaned herself, like she always did.
Then I, trailed by looks endless of miserly, 
she asked about the cradle saving her fall. 
She refused.
So, correctly I, I cut it for her,
and it ripped in two. 

A five-cent distance, she falled—
on two she landed,
deliberately laid on paws,
she sprawled