He looked at her hand, tiny
palm strongly gripped in his,
rosy fingers entwining grim
firmness, wound in destiny.
Her hand trembled with him
as the cold darkness swept
awash the invisible livery of
birth, beloved baby girl of his.
Voices, whispers and shrieks
not heard, eyes blinded by the
horror of veins slowly pale as her
crimson whimpered in defeat.
Surreal splatters on the car’s
bonnet and its driver, seized by
loud sobs while a tiny lump lay
on the road, smeared lifeless.
He looked at her hand, dripping
blood, severed and calm in its
transience.. .
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