Lying in bed,
shivering with the chill of thirteen
and thinking of your convenient wife in the next room,
her sun-baked wrinkled face
and short gray-black hair--
her head looked like a light bulb.
Waiting to hear the door's sinister whisper on the carpet. 
as she crept in to cut my heart out
and feed it to the dogs. 

by Lisa (Teel) Rodriguez
1984