Writing Un'amica.

[Claire]

There's a lady in red with eyes feline green

who came a long way from under the floor.

Her cheeks cut with thick lines of rouge colored war

paint, and a fire doused with pure gasoline.

There's light, hard and cold. A barrage from the screen

won't reach her thousand year stare anymore.

She remembers the rain when the roof sprouted pores--

Dripping wet--cartridge storm--all the scarlet unseen--

and nothing remained when the flood ebbed away.

Inside steel and ice, but ice somehow still

soft enough for jilted bullets to char.

She became a firework, a plosive fillet.

As she fizzled out--an inglorious kill--

her blaze laughed aloud: [i]au revoir, au revoir.[/i]

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Squeezed this one out for class. We were supposed to write a sonnet, an ode, or an elegy, and I decided to try a semi-Petrarchan form. I will give a long-distance high five to anyone who can decipher it.