Tableau

Her mottled skin
her bloodshot eyes,
bulging grotesquely
in surprise.

Supine, staring
at the ceiling,
blood is pooling
now congealing.

Silken stocking
round her neck,
tied bow like
to bedeck

As the days
drift quietly by,
decomposition
makes her high.

Then at last
as she is found,
a throttled gasp…
and screaming sounds.