blood in the carpet
glass on the floor
outside, the parking-lot lights
howl yellow like dinosaurs, calling.
there is the rotary wink of cops' cars as well,
on the walls, red, and then cold blue.

and then the room is clean
no trace remains of struggle
can you almost hear the last cry?
the room wails with it,
like those tears that are so fierce that no sound emerges.
no one believes this story -
no one would.
what happened here is
invisible.