No relief.

You want to know what happens when
the pale one cannot breathe,
her heaving chest can take no air.

Flowers made of words trace
from nape to floor
in patterns that pair fire
and ice.

In stark contrast, she
is doused in gasoline,
then drawn to misty meadows,
no relief.

A beating heart,
pleading mind,
and barely
any sound, 
save for "please".