If you see a woman walking, if she’s stepping quietly home, if you see her flowing past you on the pavement. If you’d like to break her brittle bones, and you want to hear the hopeless pleading, and you want to feel the pink flesh bruising, and you want to taste the taut skin bleeding. If, in fact, you see her and you want her. Think on. Don’t touch her. Just let her pass you by. Don’t place your palm across her mouth and drag her to the ground. For unknowingly, unthinkingly, unwittingly you might have laid your heavy hand on Bella. And she’s woken up this morning with the knowledge that she’s
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