Then the blonde neck of a white woman lay bedded on pillows of dark blood.
The sun raged in her hair and licked her fair thighs.
And knelt around the browner breasts, still undistorted by vice and birth.
A nigger next to her: his eyes and forehead torn apart by a horse's hoof.
He dug two toes of his dirty left foot into the inside of her little white ear.
But she lay and slept like a bride: at the edge of the happiness of her first love
and as if from the departure of many ascensions of the young warm blood.
Until the knife was lowered into her white throat and a purple apron made of dead blood was wrapped around her the huts threw

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