What The Autopsy Didn’t Insinuate

was his hands trembled in rhythm
with her quivering small frame.

His fingers searched her rigid legs, her frozen feet
as she whispered, “bind me tighter”
he hesitated, contemplating to retreat.

When he looked up
his eye fell upon the ram
her hands caught in the thicket of its knots
the blade knew its way across the marble skin
and sunk into the puddle of blood

He cried out,
"I am here"
but God had no time to respond.

What the autopsy didn’t insinuate
was He had three seconds of eye-contact

before the small body
snuggled the burnt rubber
the engine kept growling
the wheel stayed straight:

vehicular- cat-slaughter
God was running late.


I.E.L