Murder Scene

[tectak]

Murder Scene
I heard the scream as it leapt for me.Statemental opener. Good. A little bit of cautious anthropomorphism goes a long way in imagery. I hear a scream and a horrific attachment. So far so good.
The jaguar from the gullet of a young ...but now you are too keen on getting your words out that you get them out twice. You could and should combine these "scream image" bits in to one.

"I heard the scream; a jaguar from the gullet of a young woman leapt at me."
woman leapt at me in leopard skin with a tan Be careful. This is now getting very disjointed. You need to completely seperate the IMAGE of the woman and her scream from the IMAGE of just the woman. By all means elaborate on her appearance but write it as clearly as you did to decribe that scream. I am unsure what relevence a leopard skin has to a jaguar but what I do know is that you have made the schoolboy howler of shooting an elephant in your pyjamas. "The woman leapt at ME in leopard skin with a tan forest behind it" Huh?
forest behind it.  I did not hear the knife This is a little sudden. I expect you turned away. Horror does that and so you make a point for veracity....but the image is now completely confusing. I confess I am thwarted with the lifeless limping of the murderer's smile. What on earth does this mean? You need a clear story to make clear statements and so convey clear thoughts. YOU know what you are seeing in your mind, I do not. You did NOT see the knife? You did not see the murderer's face? Sorry, but you make a poor witness. Let's recap. You heard a scream and that is all?
as it parted her breast bone from her body.
I did not see the lifeless limping of the
murderer's smile.  I only heard the scream. Yes officer. I know nothing. I only heard a scream
I longed to hear that vile exoticism again, Soliloquy. Your thoughts. Again, make the seperation clear or we will be here all night working out who did what to whom and with what.
an ecstasy of fear and anguish released
unto the night like a loveless man releases
his loveless seed into his gaunt tissues. Repetition of a descriptor CAN add emphasis to a single subject but to share one word with two subjects is mean, lazy or inadequate. Loveless is a strange descriptor anyway as perversions often convince the perpetrator that some kind of "love" manifestation is quintessential to their raison d'etre. So you loose that veracity point for me...combined with the difficulty of hearing an exoticism, and desperately trying to work out how to release my sperm in to my own gaunt skin,( I will not loose sleep over it) I am now losing faith. Not unusually in this shock-horror genre I find that boredom begins to set in with the predictability of the nastyness. If there was some other way of producing the squirm factor it would still be a cliche by now...I mean, there's only so much abomination to go round and E.A. Poe used most of it up. Back to the poem. As you are essentially writing prose with bus-stops there is no excuse for pretending that anything poetic is required, nothing wrong with that, BUT without the intellectual glue holding the piece together it is all disintegrating before my eyes. As I predicted, there is some return to the twisted reasoning of the psychopath but it is too little too late. Bringing in god, emancipation, removal from woes etc. does indicate some definition of the "not evil" man thinking pleasant thoughts whilst cutting off breasts, slicing flesh off living bodies and generally getting up to no good. However, to write about it is as difficult as writing about love. Perhaps you should look seriously at making the unclear clear and then trying to make a core theme or metaphor paramount throughout. As it is, the motive shifts and the intent changes. I am still not sure who your character was...er...is. The last few lines I take with a pinch of salt....and perhaps a little apple sauce
I longed to feel that throbbing scream
below my parted hands, and to draw blood
down between my palms.  Like a painter
I'd carve my victims nicely, with a smile
or a crescent on their back.  I would not
be evil as I parted their body from its 
woes of living.  I would be their God,
their emancipator.  I remember the scream so
fondly, and the breast bone I gnawed on.