He dies everynight in the darkened room,
His breath stifled by my unheard moans,
He dies every night with his silence,
He dies in shades of grey and muted tones.
* * *
I am the one
Who strangled your dry voice in the dead of the night
Against my pillow where you lay
Your short spiky hair pinning my pillow with their strength
As I pushed you,
Your strong arms flailing,
Your male lips gasping, I do not know
Whether it was ecstasy you felt,
Or your voice screamed for mercy as I dealt you with the denial
Of your breath.