Silencing Light

Vision’s blurring around the edges now— The perfect vignette for silent film; The text screams bold inside your head; The crickets wail from amongst the trees. You’re the femme fatale in this deathly skit, Doubling trouble with perfect smiles, Charming your way through grim impasse: To be or not to be. Have you left enough clues as to your fate? Will a savior know to find you? Alas, there’s none here to save but you, As the warmth he left creeps from you. Perhaps blood shed will quench the thirst, But veins cut once might drain you— So listen still for a quiet step: Executioner or lover. What light from yonder window breaks? It’s the after, not an angel.