A Close Relation Poem

L. Paul Fobert Jr.
12/19/11

A Close Relation

Her hair shiny, black as soot, cascading like a waterfall,
against pale alabaster skin, tinged red in cold winter dew.
Fur warmed her body as she shivered underneath the streetlight.
Her doppelganger, most commonly called twin, I shall be known.
I entreat you now, please, hear my tale of how I am to be.
Life to be gone, evermore.

Knife in hand, silently waiting, for a moment, all too near.
The matter at hand, perfection timed, nearby shoppers will doubt
horrors they may witness when I take my sister’s precious life.
As doppelgangers’ go, I am one in a sea of evil,
and no hesitation comes when I take her life, just relief.
To now be gone, evermore.

Body disposal. Harder than it seems. Especially now.
Her alabaster skin sleek with blood now. Life can be so cruel,
but it's not. She got off easy. Dragging along the body,
a dumpster comes into view. What to do? No more to think on.
Myrtle, my twin, my doppelganger, is gone. Dead. At my hands.
Her life, taken, evermore.

San Francisco’s still streets motivated an easy retreat.
Blending in shadows had become a dominating nature.
Getting back through town across high, hilly roads with no body.
Problematical at best, but worth it, if I pulled it off.
Somehow I did. In my room, sigh, relief. In plain sight, relief.
First time, just one, evermore.

Police come soon afterwards. The acting classes paid off well.
I tell them my name. Myrtle. And my sister is now missing.
The two blues don’t doubt. Much too busy they are at leering.
At my cleavage. Flattering? Yes. And no. I have work to do.
I offer to help, they accept. Smiling, I receive power.
Perfectly placed, evermore.

Not all the officers are receptive to my involvement.
I don’t care. Neither do the leering blues. Disgraced uniforms,
yet helpful to a twin killing murderer. Leering Blue One,
Leering Blue Two and I canvas all night. I steer them away
from the bins where Myrtle’s dumped. Relief. Relief stating all.
Not over yet, evermore.

Questions, questions, and questions. What was I to do? The truth? Lie?
Lie. The best truthful way I could. I saw myrtle yesterday.
No, I don't know who had her. Police activity flourished.
The station stank. Doughnuts. Coffee. Nasty, smelly, tastelessness.
Missing sister wasn't missing. Murdered. Police didn't know.
I grinned in spite, evermore.

How they came to know, based off my answers, I never discerned.
What we both now know and in truth I have always known. Always.
This case easy as it may seem could have me in hot water.
Dressing as Myrtle, hard as it may be, I now need to do.
If I do not, jail is my calling, for the rest of my days.
Depression sets, evermore.

Officers, giving me looks. Not leering like Blues One and Two.
I’m holding out. They’re catching on. Worrisome. What do I do?
Lie yet again? No. Run. Away. Fast. Far. It seems most likely
the easiest thing to do. Under lazy yet watchful eyes
I bolt. Run hard and Run fast. Car theft. This is my crime today.
Lone criminal, evermore.

How did the Cops figure it out? Did they figure it all out?
Does it matter? The chase is on now. Leering Blues One and Two
hide in the rear, leering. How long has it been; my priceless crime?
Week? Month? Year? Sleeping, writing, running. Anything else to do?
Turn myself in? Defeats initial plans. This is what I need.
Hard, hard working, evermore.

I loved my parents. Did they? Loved Myrtle more, so, so much more.
Their will left her everything. From records and player to house.
Sinful sweet revenge, parents and Myrtle gracefully suffered
when ending innocent Myrtle life. Doppelganger no more.
I now hold the cards. Everything is mine. But I’m cop-running.
Bittersweetness, evermore.

Three days. Long and gloriously painful. Tingles. Feet asleep.
Wailing sirens pierce the night. Cold winter dew a reminder.
That night. Worth it? No. Lost everything. Possessions and family.
Waiting for the inevitable. Brutal. Worth it? Agreed.
The leering duo cuff me. Reading my rights without a leer.
Caught! A relief. Evermore.