It was pitch-dark
I couldn’t see anything
Nothing moved
I couldn’t hear anything
But there was no mistaking
The smell of desire
And the heat emanating
From the fear in his eyes
I knew he was near me
A mere inches away
Who thought he was hunter
And I his prey
It was pitch-black
I made sure of that
To make sure he knew
There was no turning back
© 2009 Sonya Florentino
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the way the second verse turned my 'understanding' of the first verse on its head. Nice work. (Making a note to myself...don't meet Sonya on a dark night! !) Love as always, Nomad.