The Gutting pt 2
She's a multitude, she's an animal, raw. Long nails, bloody hair, ripped clothing. She has no thoughts, inly in the now, with the carcass in front of her, gutting it. Don't care when one is sliding off and a new one arrive.
She's also terrified, afraid that someone will find her out, yell at her. Saying she did something wrong. She's curled up in her body, holding herself. But that's not enough.
She's also crying, crying for the mess she is making, crying for the souls that pass through her table. She prays for them, for their safe passing. She wants to hold their head and gently help them pass.
She's playful, she enjoys the pattern the splatter makes on the wall. Dancing around the room.
She's a multitude, but she's all alone.