Death On An Axminster Carpet - Vic Gamble

she went blubbering into
the bathroom
& spliced her wrists with his razor,
her beautiful & delicate wrists,
as if they were rotten saplings…
as if they were  romantic molten wax
of candles…

her husband found her in an incidental barrage in,
left, & locked the door
& called an ambulance as if it were a shout
for pest control,
as if a predacious animal had been found,
his voice croaking with need
for mesmerising lights of blue
and other flashing toys of emergency.

“Don’t save me” she cried, “He lied”
& the ambulance man leaned close,
like an angel, and said,
“Don’t worry honey, he just didn’t want more blood
on his new bloody carpet”

Vic Gamble