Sometimes, in dreams,
there is the chase.
I’m running from an unseen force,
which I can only sense
as it draws ever nearer…
• • •
Winded, I make it into a cab,
but he catches the door
and pushes me over to the far side.
• • •
We reach the city limits
when I break the pulsating silence
with a half-formed thought.
“You know, if only you weren’t going to kill me,
I think we might’ve grown to be friends.”
“Perhaps in another world…” his voice trails off.
I’m not certain if I can detect sincerity in his tone.
I’m not certain if it matters.
He brandishes two four-inch blades, one in each hand,
stabbing with surgical precision.
First, several thrusts through the chest.
I feel unable to take a full breath as my lungs
collapse under a rush of the warm summer air.
Then, he draws me close, holding my head in the crook of his elbow. I look up and ask, “So this is how it goes?”
“Yep. This is about how it goes.”
“Good…” I sigh.
His blade meets my neck as I drift into infinity.