The First

The heat wavers over the pavement,
She’s daydreaming of love,
The kind covered in red,
Hidden in a rickety shed.

The tree line is just up ahead,
She walks with a purpose,
Hands clenching harder with each step,
He’s there waiting, patiently impatient.

The branches grab at her misfitting clothes,
She pays them no mind,
She’s calmed by the focus,
But yet her palms bleed.

The anxiety of seeing his black eyes,
It was driving her,
Pushing her,
It was everything.

She found the shack,
She entered through the rear,
His back was to her,
She was suddenly filled with fear.

She saw his fingertips at his sides,
They were dripping crimson,
She felt a surge like a roaring tide,
He turned to her smiling.

His eyes were black but shining,
He greeted her with the usual embrace,
She looked over his shoulder,
The prey had been made a disgrace.

All limbs severed,
She thought she’d been clever,
Although much too slow,
She’d missed the kill,
And even the end of the show.

His smile dissipated,
He had noticed her disappointment,
His hand raised to show her,
He had brought her one of her own.

It was pathetic with tears down its’ face,
She longed to have but a mere taste,
Join me in this she pleaded,
They stood entwined.

Their joined fingers grasping,
The blade for the first cut,
The prays last breath rasping,
The first will never be forgot.