He’s a wolf in wolves clothing. He makes no bones about his
malice. It slides from him. Slithering from that overly saccharine smile.
“How do I always get cornered by you?” I say it aloud as
though he might answer, he just pushes forward, backing me into that corner and
snarling his muffled snarl. I watch our silhouettes dance along the concrete
wall. Like two young lovers, making music with our bodies. How different
everything looks in black. What it really is seems almost unbearable to me.
I hear the zipper go down. His sweat drips onto my forehead.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in”. I say
that aloud too. He looks at me, confused, the metaphor lost on him. He pulls
out, zips up, slamming the door behind him.
“How do I always get cornered by you?” I whisper it now to
the dark.
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