Her only fault was lack of flaw in her smile.
Her voice soothed trouble hearts
And her words calmed minds.
She was the lamb with no blemish:
Sent to carry burdens away.
She was rare,
As rare as they come.
She was the example given by every parent,
She was the symbol of purity and grace,
She was proof to humanity's grasp of perfection.
Needless to say,
She was my refuge when my home crumbled:
When the man whose offspring I birthed
Miscarried me from the warmth of his love
And dumped me out in the cold world.
She took me in and reminded me of calm.
Each dusk brought us together more,
With the moon as witness to our sacred bonfires.
It was perfect,
Maybe less than she was,
Because of me no doubt.
Her jar collection was perfect
In rows and columns that knew no skew.
Hidden from light and even slight existence
By her eternal silence.
Curiosity taught me her only flaw:
The stinking manly remains of her conquers.
Hidden so perfectly beneathe her innocence
And guarded by walls around her conscience.
Men had fallen to her knife
And she took their symbol of manhood
As trophies to tattoo herself with glory.
Her cuffed hands were a nightmare to everyone.
Murmurs flew around on faces that told of shock.
She was perfect.
Like her only flaw.