Back to the scene of the crime.
No caution tape.
No police cars.
No chalk line marks the spot.
The scene of this crime goes without a marker.
The blood and the sinew spilled out in that place.
Do not exist on this plane.
It is a heart that was shattered,
A soul ripped and torn.
The crime was not against me.
It was not against you,
But it injured us,
And all we were.
There is a ghost that haunts there.
Walks the steps, and sways to music.
Bathes in the water, lounges in the downy comfort.
An unseen watcher, observing
The scene of the crime.
~Bev, 2010
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