Friday, September 16, 2016

Poetry: Wrapped In Crime

When the sounds of sexual discomfort and possible murder are heard through the hotel wall, will embarrassment make the listening voyeur flush?



© Wrapped In Crime
Mona Arizona
All Rights Reserved

Choking sounds and slaps;
That is not love. That is
Hate.
Guarded? Perhaps.
Restrained? Temporarily, maybe.
Controlled? Not when I hear
Choking sounds and slaps—
That is sex out of control
And it is coming
From the room next to mine.

Open eyes locked
On the ceiling in horror,
In shock,
In sudden realization the
Face of HATE
Would be the last thing
She would ever see,
That it was too late
To express a change of mind,
That this was her finale.

When hotel security
Pushed on the door, eyes
Rounded in surprise;
Wrapped in Crime Tape,
Holding a smoking gun,
The woman I thought victim
Stood there smiling, the
Perpetrator of
A crime of lust, smiling,
Part of a TV murder scene.