I Was Like I Was In Science

How To Commit The Perfect Murder" Was An Old Game In Heaven. I Always Chose The Icicle: The Weapon Melts Away.

As She Brought Prospective Buyers Through, The Realtor Said It Was An Oil Stain, But It Was Me, Seeping Out Of The Bag.

But, He Also Said It Because Part Of Him Wanted More Of Her, This Cold Woman Who Was Not Exactly Cold, This Rock Who Was Not Stone.

I Had Rescued The Moment By Using My Camera And In That Way Had Found How To Stop Time And Hold It. No One Could Take That Image Away From Me Because I Owned It.

He Took The Hat From My Mouth. ''tell Me You Love Me'', He Said. Gently I Did. The End Came Anyway