He passed by her without a look,
Carelessly and coldly, slammed the door.
She smiled faintly and kept on sweeping
An imaginary floor.
And when she spoke, he didn't answer,
Instead, he mumbled: "You're a whore!"
The atmosphere grew even denser
And she didn't try anymore...
At dinner time, he was just fuming
And for no reason, lost his patience
A simple glance was just enough
For him to throw her against the door...
And as she wiped her bloody lips
Repeating to herself: "I'm fine!"
Awaiting on the shelf, a bottle