04-18-2014, 04:35 AM
Murder
The suspect
had been spotted
around the neighborhood
in the past coming for others,
but it was our season now.
Nights were busy
dilating, growing icicles
as perfect murder weapons.
Death came to our home
on stilts and peered
through our frosted bedroom
window and saw: that kisses
leave tiny bruises which amass
until the kissing stops;
that we went to bed
in mute silence, slept dreamless;
that we were not conscious
of how to love without killing
ourselves in the process. Death offered
autonomy, a nascent leaf,
an algal bloom
of possibilities.
Foul play
was eventually uncovered
in late morning when authorities
dragged the pond
behind the house and discovered
the missing bodies
of our hollow wedding vows.
The suspect
had been spotted
around the neighborhood
in the past coming for others,
but it was our season now.
Nights were busy
dilating, growing icicles
as perfect murder weapons.
Death came to our home
on stilts and peered
through our frosted bedroom
window and saw: that kisses
leave tiny bruises which amass
until the kissing stops;
that we went to bed
in mute silence, slept dreamless;
that we were not conscious
of how to love without killing
ourselves in the process. Death offered
autonomy, a nascent leaf,
an algal bloom
of possibilities.
Foul play
was eventually uncovered
in late morning when authorities
dragged the pond
behind the house and discovered
the missing bodies
of our hollow wedding vows.
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris