CRUCIFIX

It whispered in her ear,
as it slid its smooth brass skin
over her bare neck, touching.
She just laid there, half-asleep.

And when she woke up,
from that unfamiliar bed
before the empty altar
in that air-conditioned chamber
and its shuttered windows
on one side,
she found the door locked.

I could not hear her,
when she shouted her name
through the shuttered windows.
The crucifix she wore
held her voice, as it
wrapped itself on her bare neck,
and slowly strangled her.