The knife shined,
As she cut,
Slowly.
The wind trapped in her hair,
Or was it him she held?
And oh he sighed,
Remembering how he’d..
He’d so yearned for this sight,
‘He could die.’
And sharp went up her eye,
Her questions never missing,
‘Could he?’
He blinked a little longer,
Honesty, was always his thing,
And she smiled,
Glad they never talk things by.
And in that moment he blinked,
In his arms,
He’d taken her in.
And in a motion too swift,
Exactly like those of her eyelid,
He slit her throat.
In his arms,
She'd once moaned,
'She could die.'
When he met her gaze again,
The blood still lingered,
And its stain,
On her scarlet lips,
Onto the scarlet scarf.
‘Love is in the air’
Err.. didn’t the horoscope say?
