The Butcher's Daughter

In the Payne's Grey night

I fumble, fingering hot,

Wet, squishy, sticky

*

How did these get here?

None of these belongs to me--

Thigh, heart, tongue, spare ribs

*

Cast off suspicion

Find a place to hide inside

Figure out what's real

*

Did he put something

In my drink, unwitting cask

Poison to my soul?

*

Did his hands probe me

Without permission granted

Did I fend him off?

*

Was I wearing this?

Do I even own the tools?

What did I -- did I?

*

Memory taunts me

What did I do after dark?

Can't wipe off the stain

*

I cannot move now

Sirens scream a warning shot

I evade their grasp

*

Slip on an apron

Slip in through the locked back door

Carve the meat to bits

*

I serve a cold dish

To the man who just came in

I know I know him

***

Copyright © 03/03/2024 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.

***

Hope you found something intriguing in my response to 𝐑𝐌 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐧's 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 (𝐔𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞), March Madness.

This is my first time at Write Club, so I have to write!