I
hands
sticky, warm
against his skin,
catching
when you pull
away;
desire
building
in your lungs,
fingers floating
above his thighs
a hint of
spring
catches your nose,
and you breathe
through the calm,
letting the rain
come in
II
there is nothing
beautiful
about bruises,
their quiet whispers
calling
your name
as he falls
to the concrete,
naked body
lush, and soft
against the ground
you thank him
for money
found within
the gentle folds
of his wallet--
and then, the smoke
of your
exhaust pipe
hangs, suspended,
in the balance
III
there was a hunger
on your breath,
this good little nightmare
catching in your throat--
when they stuck
the needle
in your arm
and watched you go,
I hope they felt ashamed,
this twenty-second death
weighing heavy
on their hearts.
William Bonin was a serial killer active in California, during 1979 and 1980. He was convicted for 14 rapes and murders, though he was suspected of 15 more. As the judge pronounced his sentence at his 1983 trial, he said, "He had a total disregard for the sanctity of human life. Sadistic, unbelievably cruel, senseless and deliberately premeditated. Guilty beyond any possible or imaginary doubt." He was executed by lethal injection in 1996. I got all my information from the Wikipedia page on William Bonin.