The Tryst

Written by: Jill Martin

An exquisite touch of misery
cripples her sensibilities
two doors down

For written upon his brow
she saw unholy disregard
    for but a moment?

Seeping beneath her door
malevolent advancing collector
    glides bloody .......
She didn’t understand the absence
    of his soul
watching her in the insistence
    of utterly waxen wounds.

Without sitting behind her eyes
    how could he ever know
midnight’s promise and not

And so he awaits with dagger
    poised as
she trembles with anticipation
    of his knock
on her door
at the stroke of midnight ...

[happy new year!]