Icicles
tiny slivers of shame
no evidence remains
no prints
only pain
nothing left to reveal
malicious intent
in cold icy glares
of a shaft through the heart
the dagger of doubt
disappearing at once
in the conflict and heat
cold, clear accusations
but no support
in these facts
it’s the perfect murder
with the edge undefined
nothing left here to see
but the shattered remains
in these crystal slivers
of death
