Ariadne

Limbs as pale as foam upon the strand --
I guess she must have whipped her slender arms
And kicked her tapered ankles till they snapped.
How else could she begin to rid herself
Of all that screaming fury, lye-harsh grief?
But honey, after all, you're just a girl
And this is just another stand-up show.

FYI

Render me a lantern made of straw
Peel from me each inch of living skin
Stuffing it with prickled yellow stalks
Then kindle me
And watch me writhe and crackle, stiffen, flare
Just so you know:
That's how you butcher a woman;
That's how you drop into hell.