Opposites attracting is the only logic to her blood in the snow. The contrast is art.

I curse myself for not bringing my camera. Her warm red fluids scattered across the pillows of snow.

Her ribcage is completely exposed except for her intestines that are strung up through the ribs like Christmas lights entangled in a tree.

I sat in my homemade museum, admiring the wonder before me. What a gift. She’s made a sacrifice all for me; all for me to have this mosaic of bones, brain, and organ in the snow rather than tile.

I know this freezing silence will end and I’ll be executed for my art. Till then, I will memorize the ripped skin on her thigh, her doll-like glassy eyes, and her backwards foot that has protruding sharp bones at the ankle.