Breathe!
I must still
this pounding;
quiet my nerves,
think.
Days light fades –
time is running out
movements need be
precise, swift,
silent
No room for error
as I navigate
this rocky path
cling to
shadows
I salivate,
the taste of
salty flesh
teasing tongue
obsessed
Joy of stalking.
(Written for Deb Whittam’s 50 Word Thursday prompt. Image courtesy of Deb. Visit Twenty Four to participate.)