Literature
Dark Dance With an Assassin
the chill of death looms heavy in the air.
a shuffle of footsteps on wet city pavement.
fresh rain, a pervasive odor in the air;
i follow you, at something of a distance
and yet, i know you can sense the shiver
running up and down your spine.
this is what i live for.
adrenaline; liquid poison,
fueling the hunt for the hunter;
fueling the cravings of the assassin.
tension builds as your back straightens,
as my lit cigarette finds its way into a gutter
swimming downstream with the other things
smart enough to know to run.
unlike you. you continue down this street with me.
fingers touch the sword’s hilt
as though a musician
