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Crime of the Heart

A collaboration: Poem by Annette Nasser and Art by Carl Scharwath


He spoke just one sentence and she, without crying, consumed by passion, yet mostly love, through thought processes of a hungry mind surrounded by grey matter his eyebrows justified what was never read until now. His voice interrupted her wandering, wondering mind trying to speak and with masculine arrogance he shut her down with a dominance not longed for. There is a sudden and serious solemnity under dark red and bruised toned sunset, often resembling spot flashes of an abusive shadow. The reality is this: Every time she witnesses expressions of bullied spontaneity with uneasy astonishment, every time she felt tears outline the illusion of his silence every time she glanced to see hypnotic effects of odious, sordid eyes not aware of the clothes adorning her body and only the hidden intricacies of her torn skin Every time exerting unsavory machismo emotionally every time holding precisely pointing the handle within his mind, and think or act violently upon her domain her lips frozen in time unable to embrace her own mind, because he thinks he owns her wondering if he ever really thought effect of consequences the next time he thinks will be his last time because she never really was and never will be his wish because in her mind and yes, she has thoughts, too He doesn't exist. © Annette Nasser

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