He retraced from the curve of her clavicle,
fingers sliding down over the jugular.
A shift in her face from red to blue,
her eyes folded, diluted, without a clue.
Her voice went numb, trembling with fear,
once that abused his love so sincere.
A measured grip, both frantic and precise,
nails cutting a path meant to galvanize.
Beneath the pallid light, gasping for breath,
slowly limping, drawing closer to death.
A mark stretched past her infused jawline,
engraved within the esophagus outline.
An apology did came, forgiven too late,
already yielding to her swollen fate.
The air musked, scented with faint regret,
a decree of absolution, no one to dictate.