Surgeon-sharp blue steel
ruins curve of soft throat,
never wavering, swings wide
to bite deep inside her chest.
He is important now,
watching coolly as surprised eyes
cloud with red. He could hug himself,
but just picks up his bag instead
And walks away whistling,
serene in the knowledge that
he will never be caught.
Original content on this page © Alan P. Scott. All rights reserved.
This document last updated December 6, 1997.