Her face was peppered with white powder,
The prouder part of her slender frame
Lay still, a weary head on a pillow
By an open window four floors away.
Eyes of glass catch hazed reflections
From the direction of London lamps
Lighting themselves one by one,
But she does not smile at their amber gleam
Whilst the seams of her soul come undone.

Vague melt solidifies natures crime scene.
Unheard screams echo through empty streets
And disperse amongst absent crowds,
The watershed of their witness long past.
Her mould cast in contorted limbs,
Thin bones buckled in defeat
Rise up to breach a weakened shell;
It splits in parts and dashes her contents
Across the immaculate canvas.

Her hair coiled into tight twirls,
Billows and unfurls in a fashionable way
And tickles her almond dipped skin;
She is still lukewarm within it.
Arms in dissaray clench absent railings,
Their flailing sealed fast against the frost,
Partly lost against the fresher dusting,
Their trusting gape embracing nothing more
Than the floor that does not grasp back.

Arctic air dances with the sequined dignity
Now slowly slipping from her back.
The cause of her silence tracks down her neck
Into rockpools of cracked liquid almandine;
Corruption in sanguine against velveteen flesh
Enmeshes with all that she was.
As her decency begins to rapidly fold,
The city as old as the river that bore it
Throws a desperate brume for her pity.

White facades shudder in the prolonged night
Iniquitously enveloping the dim scene.
The ironic beams of their iron balconies,
Open falconries of birds that could never fly;
Four floors beneath they lie shattered,
The tattered remains of their short lives
Scattered for those left behind to uncover,
A mere puzzle whose many pieces,
Fit together no more.

Depraved pavements shoulder another layer,
The willing slayer, its slain rests awkward,
Her frigid body alludes no more life
Lying jacknifed in her concluding pose.
Unable to make a final amend, ending
Not on a reminisce of a remarkable course
But a nameless remorse, abrupt and unsolved
Condemning an unsettled soul to history,
In a finale four floors long.