Whispers to a Scream

Her green eyes, her long, blonde hair
He can’t help but stop and stare.
She’s right in front of him
As he plans his demise, he begins to grin.
Their lips meet…he’s left with a drunken, reeling head.

His rough, calloused hands finger
Her sun-kissed blonde hair, and brush along to her cheek and linger.
She grabs the hand and holds it in hers
He slurs.
Zippers unzip, buttons unbutton, as she begins to scream.
No one hears as on they peacefully dream.