The Witness She stands at the edge of a pit filled with useless grey bodies, their limbs stiffly twisted like discarded dolls. Soon they will be covered in soil and lime. Soon this place will disappear. Her eyes are the color of gnarled nickels. Later, machines split open the sky and ejaculate fire, broiling the color from upturned eyes. A naked girl screams while sheets of her skin melt from her bones like tallow. The irony is not lost on the woman watching. Her skin has always been ash. Blood cools in shapeless pools. The reasons are barked out over loudspeakers, echo through alleyways
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