Her glorified ignominy

They dissected her. She lay sprawled on a cold steel table. They reached out and got her gut{s}.they clasped a fistful and dumped it in a spittoon. Nodding in shame at each other and disapproval at what she had done. Defied societal norms and how she wavered from reality. They grabbed her heart. Squeezed her marooned arteries and claimed the cuddling blood was muck. For she divided her love and lust between two men...one forbidden, one not.

They all contemplated and discussed and exchanged mails and ostracized her! They tore her dress which was sewn to perfection in a single surgical rip. She turned and twisted.helpless.the halogen lights burning her nakedness. She thought of the nights when her state of undress was perfect in a pleasurable searing under the moonlight...they seemed so long ago...

They wrapped her curls in a knot in their palms and pulled her head to a tilt as her mouth let out a silent scream. They shoved more cold steel down her throat, trying to get the germs in her esophagus on a solvent-doused swab. She wondered if they knew the arse from the esophagus. She laughed in silence at their catch-22. She laughed at their insecurities that arose because of her sin, her overpowering lustful sin. How they would love to know why she did what she did. The secret being, she had no clue either. She woke every night clammy head to foot. Wondering and contemplating the same thing.

At 11 past 46 in the lull of the night, they called the time of death…

She died in morose all her dreams were a teardrop shy of impossible and she gave it up for it in spite of the deficit of chances of them coming true…