Deck door creaks, then squishes closed.
Ankle’s eye view is all that’s granted as,
slipshod, slipper-shod, he shuffles over.
Tonight? We’ll see.
Hooded yet, I feel the tickle of mouse feet,
signaling its leaving, its leavings
a part of once and future meals.
Unseen? We’ll see.
Undraped now, I stretch, yawn, maw wide.
Fresh fuel courses the chill and empty veins.
I hiss, bleed briefly; then spark fully awake.
Warming to task.
Steel marrowed bones, unkempt, charred black
from too much use, too little care,
prepare my brand, sear stripe.
Pale, pink pocked, round, and soft,
they arrive — my evening’s guests.
Smooth skin now scarred, scorched.
Lethally? We’ll see.
Marked, I bid them ‘adieu’. Innocents no more.