She Would Not Cry

She stares open eyes, lost white tombstone, motionless she who loved to smile inert she sits, sheathing her teeth Feelings match boxes in a sea of sombre paper butterflies on and under the bed ironed, waiting to leave again, some glorious day She sits a leg folded beneath her, haggard his head on her lap life trickling down a corner of his mouth she rocks him She sits and stares blinded by loss nothing will tear her from him and nothing will move her anymore