Crimes of Passion

The dagger retracts its thrust      

Under a moon

Chipped by shadow

 

The hammer pulls back from its blow

Beneath a bulb

Coated with smut

 

The scissors retrace their cut      

Beside a lamp

No longer aglow

 

The blood runs up and stems its flow

Fluorescents above

Encased in must

 

The buried victim breaks the crust

Warmed by sunshine

Weak and slow

 

The murderer negates the show

Drenched by floodlights

That are just

 

Our bodies separate from lust

By candles

Guttering and low

 

Our lips reshape the kiss to know

In our glare

The blindness of trust