You Hotfoot it Out of There

My blind spot hides the assassin 
who has crept through gardens to find me.
When I turn around, there is no one 

but he heard my melody in the mountains
and followed the notes 
through thickets and sin

now he lurks outside my house
backflipping down from the roof
waiting to pounce 
but he doesn’t come in.

Puzzled, I watch him from windows
but his shadow has slipped from view
always, always, again and again.

The only sign he was there
is the tremble of violets 
in the space he left.

He’s so clever, my assassin.
I saved myself by making him love me
but I don’t know how long this will last.

Show yourself! I call out into the dusk
Do what you will, take what you want!
I am met with silence.

He knows I know 
what he wants.

So I play the melody he followed
play until he shows himself
then slips back into the shadows

play until my hands ache
play until 
he is gone
with the morning.

© N Nazir 2022

Written for Shay’s Word Garden where we are given inspiration with Stephen Crane (words used: assassin, blind, gardens, melody, mountain, puzzled, sin, thickets, violets), The Sunday Muse (images as shown), and Poets and Storytellers United (theme: dialogue) where I have gone a little off-prompt.

36 thoughts on “You Hotfoot it Out of There

    1. Thanks, Bob!! 🙂 I like your reading of it. It’s Shay’s prompts at the Word Garden that sometimes spark off a curious write, she always has such good word lists! I never know where I’ll go with them. The word “assassin” alone led to this narrative. Appreciate your comment, thank you 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Ha ha ha! That is hilarious! Thanks for sharing that 😀 😀 I have no idea what tune it would be . I’ll let readers fill in that blank 🙂

      Thanks for a great word list. I read that poem In the Desert the other day and didn’t know who it was but found it haunting and then saw it on your page! So now I know about Stephen Crane 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Totally my favorite kind of poem here, Sunra, one full of mystery, deceit, sensual language and image and a sense of how fleeting connection can be in that “..tremble of violets/in the space he left…” I especially loved the idea of the lover as some sort of ninja whose trade is to kill, but who has been precariously charmed into love instead. A pleasure to read, every word.

    Liked by 1 person

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