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The High Diver
by Eric Rolfe
She dove with perfect grace and beauty.
Back curved as an archer’s bow.
Arms swept back like a plummeting eagle
swooping down to capture its prey.
Her auburn hair fluttered carelessly behind.
Chest thrust forward, breasts straining against the
cotton shirt that concealed the bruises.
Her stomach clenched in freefall,
feeling exactly the same as when
her father slid his hand inside her pants.
Her face shone with a content serenity,
a child feeling the wind in her face.
A sixteen-year-old girl at blissful ease.
The pavement shattered her skull,
cracking it like an eggshell against a countertop,
ending years of horror, fear, and shame.
She dove with perfect grace and beauty.