The Dead Body

The suspect was surprisingly alert

knowing that no witness can confirm –

her whereabouts.

Culpability was written on her face

with her trembling hands she can’t think –

the sudden good-bye she had to say

desperation was eating her alive once again.

On a breezy afternoon

in the middle of the scene she took –

the evidence that nobody knows

the evidence that took his tormented soul.

The suspect was observing uneasily,

but no tears were falling from her face -

answering each question: had she heard anything?

Dusting the place from top to button

the police might uncover –

the fingerprints that can be forgotten.

Her heart was beating fast as she speaks,

her knees were shaking, she can’t breathe –

a little while longer she’ll be in her destination,

but the police had a gut feeling

they took her down to the station.

Copyright@2005 Michelle Carreiro