Cold Steel
Elizabeth Clark
2:00 am. He lies still
placing his hand on her back
feeling her skin caress his fingers.
The small room lit by moonlight
streaming in from an open window,
the evening breeze cold on his skin.
She lies still, facing the wall
cringing at his touch
staring into the moonlight,
dreaming of life outside these four walls.
She cries at night after they make love
screaming for her dignity
she married him
she made her bed
she lays in it facing the wall
chilled by night air.
His fingers slide down her arm to touch her hand
feeling the ring that cost more
than his car,
the ring that bought him his happiness
the ring sparkling brightly in the moonlight,
he squeezed her hand,
holding his dream.
She feels him squeeze her hand
she drifts further into disgust
as she feels the ring press into her finger
the ring that sold her soul
the ring hard like her heart
cold steel,
never bending,
never changing,
never warm and loving.
He drifts off to sleep
thinking of how lucky he is
he never felt the cold steel
leave his heart,
never saw her leaning over him,
the cold steel in her hand,
glistening in the moonlight,
she left it on the bedside table
next to the ring
which bought him his death.
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