An infinite sweetness

An angel need not smile to pierce a heart:
She leans back fearfully to touch a wall
And finds it bullet-ridden; so the start
Of strain shows later on, might he recall…
That thin, pale face; the fixed red lips that pursed;
The fingers clutching at the stone behind;
The shoulders hunched, as if to fear the worst?
Or would he demand more - commands unkind,
So tears might burst from dark-rimmed eyes; her dress
Could pool around her shins – a woman’s lot
In conflict zones - when saying “no” or “yes”
Makes little difference; though, when she has shot
Him with the gun behind her, he’ll ‘depart’:
An angel need not smile to pierce a heart…