Last Communion

Raw and unflinching, Last Communion dissects the relationship between intimacy and violence with surgical precision. These poems prowl through urban darkness where desire turns predatory and every touch leaves a scar. In this twisted cathedral of noir, confession booths become crime scenes and altar wine mingles with blood.

Each piece maps the geography of obsession - through morgues and bedrooms, sanctuaries and sacred spaces - charting territories where killer and victim blur into a single desperate choreography. This is poetry that bleeds, where shadows fuck brick walls and stilettos drill holes in midnight's membrane. Here, every murder is a perverse sacrament, every seduction a profane ritual.

Susan Molyneaux transforms noir conventions and Catholic imagery into a deeply personal exploration of power, death, and desire. Like a detective's flashlight cutting through incense-thick darkness, these poems illuminate the savage beauty in our darkest urges, creating a collection that is both confession and crime scene, both autopsy and unholy communion. In these pages, even prayer becomes a weapon, and every altar holds the potential for sacrifice.