The Smell of Burned Flesh

beginning of a poem about rape-opinions appreciated!

Fingertips that burned her flesh/
The room filled with the stench of her death
....and nothing is sacred now...
....and nothing's been sacred since...
he stained her teeth with his fuck
but that just wasn't enough for him
Not since he wiped the tears from her eyes/
and invited his friends to play inside her
....and nothing is sacred now/or since
No, she isn't sacred anymore
That beautiful woman/girl/child.
Goddess.
Whore.