Rings and Spaces

There was a space where
The ring had been
So she doused a sponge
Lathered it with soap
And rubbed
Till the greyness disappeared and
His neck was clean.

There was a space where
The blood had been
She tipped, gently, a slim
Bottle of antiseptic lotion
Onto a puff of white
And dabbed.
The stinging increased
As the bloodring
Dyed the wound clean.

There was a space where
The gold had been
It slipped off unwillingly
And was lost in time
And insignificance.  
She rubbed her finger
Until the pale mark thickened
And disappeared.

There was a space where
Her hands had been
She ran them
Under boiling water
Until skin dissolved
And she could see
Bare bone. 

There was a space in the
Day, the hour, the minute 
She looked out of
Her life's windows 
Wasted by his stains
By his thinning to cold
Lines that withdrew
Until her mind was left
Diseased with wounds
That would not clean.

There was space in her fist
As she clenched it 
And walked the whole wide ring 
She lived within
But could not exit.

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