Beneath murky, bloodied water, it beats.
The lonesome heart of a saint.
With every beat, the still water ripples.
Agonising.

Lips like cherry wine.
Porcelain, icy, skin.

Will you remember the taste of my lips?
Will you remember my hands when he touches you?

Will he caress you the way that I did?
Will he care for you more than I did?

I breathe beneath the ***** water.
Heartbeats slowing down, almost inaudible.
When suddenly, the beating stops.
The water stops.

My fingers prune and my chest throbs.
It's cold.