When you kiss him,
You taste Blistex.
A million drops of envy
Glistening in the summer light.
You taste his cigarettes
And girls in cotton,
Polka-spotted dresses.
You taste the fractured spine
And shattered mirror
In his skull.
You taste Incubus
And Brand New;
Music you aren’t into
But for a while,
Pretended to be.
You taste his torment,
Years of the abuse
He suffered
At the hand of the infamous innocence-taker.
The brown, caramelized
Hand of fate
Reaching down to wring the neck of justice
And all that is right.
You taste the hypocrisy;
How he tells you that he loves you
And then takes photos of another girl
In her bra.
You taste David Fincher.
Fight Club, Zodiac,
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo,
All coming to a head
To come and strangle you.
When you kiss him,
The fairy tales are gone.
All that’s left…
Is the taste of Blistex.

Detective Terry Fincher (age 48) was struck and killed by a train while searching for evidence in an assault case. Detective Fincher had his back to the oncoming train and it is believed that he did not hear the train or the yells from another officer. As he stepped off of the track he was ****** back into the train's path. The impact knocked him down an embankment, where he was found dead moments later.

The train was travelling at an estimated 50 mph.

Detective Fincher had received numerous awards during his 16-year career, including the Medal of Honor and Police Officer of the Year. End of Watch Wednesday, May 22, 1996