From Dust ‘Till Dawn

clouds crawl steadily
over your limp form; cracked & chipped
after the dismal desert storm —
it seems like yesterday
has not happened in ages

plastered to the dry dirt, transfixed
by a hyena’s lullaby
you wilt & wait
for forceful hands
to push you deeper

through clotted lips you conjure
a string of allurement, no wider than
a hair’s breath —
but sturdy enough
to get tangled up in.

you never intended
to drown alone.

Crime Scene

droplets of blood
littering the floor
like dark red marbles
on faded parquet.

the precise work
of
the murderer
didn’t go
as planned
and so
he had to
unleash
the red flood
to cover up
his tracks.

improvising,
he took pride in it.

the way
the body was draped,
“it” was draped
across the
black leather couch
made his heart flutter,
adrenaline rush,
his mouth turn dry.

he could not feel
the disgust
everyone else felt
while looking at his work.

for him,
his work
was perfection.