FULFILLED

By Gordon McLaughlin

Owl’s flight quiet,

A darkness covering you,

Nemesis.

Terror enlarges your eyes,

Yes,

I am here.

Carotid pulse against my blade,

Whispered pleas…

Crimson overflows its fleshy dike,

Its warmth on my grasping hand,

Eyes locked,

I inhale your final breath,

Like an exquisite perfume,

As promised.

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