New York,
 somewhere
east of the river,

she’s going to walk,
late at night,
and pull her
cheap felt jacket
 tighter
 across her chest.

She’s going to imagine
 black skies
 and millions of stars,
here, in this city
where she can’t seem
to find them.

She’s going to get cold
and wish for a home
with insulation,
 maybe a fireplace.

She’ll dare not
 glance around her,
because she’s always known
that if she looks up
they’ll attack her

 The shadows
that loom like monsters
darkening
the corners of her eyes.

Behind her,
where she’ll already have walked,
she’ll hear footsteps,
a knot
 of paralyzing fear
will become a lead weight
in her stomach.

* * *

Soft,
the stranger’s footfalls
will not be deliberate
 they’ll flow,
as sure of their path
as they are

 of their intent.

Not understanding
What the sounds mean,
She’ll turn around
 -fear blocking her speech,
she’ll stand,
paralyzed,
and stare into the darkness….

The footsteps will fail to stop.

Tall,
pungent,
a figure will move
toward her,
 slow, steady,
unnerved and wanting,
desperately needing

 -of what?

A pale and angry man,
black top hat
and bare feet,
concealed in a
 sable brown,
 ermine fur-lined
 leather trench coat.

“Do you have the time?”

He will barely whisper this,
 she will need to turn her head
 to try and catch the last echoes
of his voice,

 
 low,
 deep,
 primal,
 void of emotion.

She will
 taste
his words on her tongue,
roll them around
in her mouth.

“I don’t have a watch.”

Force of habit
from the classes
her mother made her take,
she’ll have spoken
 before she knows that she has.

“That’s okay,
that’s not what I came for,
is it?”

No,
you came for me.

She will refuse to open her mouth
and answer him,
his desperation will
strangle her mind
with erotic thoughts,
 she won’t stop him.

She won’t be able to
 she loves him….

He will leave her,
 shaking,
 sweating,
her need
screaming
and begging
for a finish.

“Yes, I have the time.”