Day Twenty-five

Today's words:

Ladder

Certificate

Sugar

Concert

Hobby

Stiletto

"You don't need a ladder

"To get me and I don't need a marriage certificate.

"But I would like some sugar

"Or tickets to tonight's concert.

"Men are kind of my hobby,"

She explained. He smiled as he plunged his stiletto

Into her heart. In her stiletto

Heels he'd nearly needed a ladder

To kiss her. He'd made a hobby

Of tall women, and no certificate

Deterred him. He chased them all, anywhere, at a concert

Or in a bar, licking the sugar

Off the rim of her drink. "Do you like sugar?"

He'd purr, "Because I am very sweet," fingering his stiletto.

He'd use it later, after the concert,

After he'd climbed the ladder

To her heart, after she was thinking about a certificate

With both their names on it. His true hobby

Was killing. But in the meantime this hobby

Would do. He dropped a cube of sugar

Into his coffee and slowly stirred, thinking of the certificate

That had come with his last stiletto.

He'd climbed up a ladder

To store it out of reach of the concert

Of questions it would provoke. He'd heard that concert

Before. The less they suspected about his hobby
The better. So in the cabinet at the top of the ladder,
Behind the sugar,
Was his stiletto
Collection, each with its certificate

Of authenticity. Sometimes he'd read each certificate
Aloud, like a concert,
For each stiletto.
But now it was time to focus on his true hobby.
So he replaced the sugar
And climbed down the ladder.

Can any certificate justify this hobby?
Killing in concert, after licking the blood-sugar
Off his stiletto, and then descending the ladder.