"I'm learning to forgive," she said, and smiled,
looking almost beatific with the light
behind her. Almost saintly, dressed in white--
her halo of blonde hair, her voice so mild.
She picked an instrument up off the cart.
Sparks glinting from its polished edge beguiled
her eyes, and made her giggle like a child.
"But then, forgetting is the hardest part."
She pulled the leather straps and buckles tight,
then placed the scalpel just over his heart
and pushed until it popped. His blood defiled
her smock; yet as his screams rang from the tiled
and soundproofed walls, she knew that she was right.
"Oh yes--forgetting is the hardest part."
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