Poem Hunter
PDC Phillip Dodham Cormier (June 7th / Toronto)


I stare across the bed
There she lies
Her blood creeping out of her head
My hands quiver as she dies
The world spins
Blood soaking the sheets
Her perfect breasts nothing more than a pincushion
Blood drips to the floor from the knife I hold
A trail of the bright red liquid slowly streams across the floor
My hand squeezes the handle of the blade
My body moves towards her
A hand slides across her breast
My hand slides across her bloody breast
I stiffen as my hand tightens around her exposed breast
The knife clatters on the ground as my grip loosens
My lips brush against hers
I stiffen even more as my hand caresses her still warm thighs
My body pushes down on top of her
I thrust back and forth
My eyes admiring my work
My beautiful, beautiful work
Grunting as I move faster
She lays there limp
Not moving at all
I roll off of her
Once more my eyes admire the workman ship
Her flesh peeled back where the knife had gone
Blood still oozing out of the gashes
How I love her
Oh this woman I knew only one night
This angel
This lovely slaughtered angel
Killed by my hands
My knife piercing her
My “knife” piercing her even deeper
The ecstasy and joy of the evening still floats through my mind
As I back out of the blood soaked room.

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