Night Stalker

And, he's back.

Into bleeding alleys at this stalking hour

He steps out. Burning, but quiet

Beside me, his tail swishing from side to side. 

(Ok, don't get me wrong - he's not a pet. Anything but.)

His feral, halogen gaze scans, unblinking, remote, these slimy streets lined with houses. And now, he's spotted 

You.

You should be scared, you know -

For these houses, their faces closed and cold, blank windows, broken panes.

There's no one home. 

The empty hallways will swallow up your screams. 

Your phone is out of range here. 

He knows. He can smell it.

Your fear.

And in the heart of his darkness, he is glad. 

He's a carnivore. I am his.

And so are you.

(He's actually a black panther. But

I like to think of him as a tiger.)

On velvet paws, he follows as you slink into a doorway -

A black door - a back door.

And it's falling apart at the hinges. 

(Do I know this door? 

Is this the déjà vu I'm looking for?

That broken neon sign above? 

Still shedding a sickly glow on the grinning faces 

Carved out in red on the dripping wall?)

You melt into the sinuous blackness beyond and I glide in,

Ready as always, to spring on my prey.

You may be swifter than a fallow deer, my dear,

But you can never outrun your fate.

And then, a pair of eyes. 

Your eyes.

Blue, incandescent. Like marsh gas.

And that smile.

Floating around those fangs I couldn't forget in a million years.

Of course! There you are, at last! 

Waiting for me, as you've done before time began. 

Waiting forever, for our time to begin.

For whatever else we might be, my love,

We're not strangers in the night.

So. How would you like your green-eyed panther done in the morning, my leopardess?

Don't you slip out 

Of the back door,

That weird door!

Will you leave me in the morning, my spotted  leopardess? Again?

Will you devour my burning heart again, and leave me in the wilderness?

Drowning in ecstatic fathomless pain?

Speaking of pain, did you ever happen to find his corpse, or what was left of it, 

at the very spot where we first met?

In this room, behind this selfsame door? 

(Seems like another life.)

God, did that feel good! 

It was exhilarating 

to feel the crimson haze of his screams obliterate the stars for a while.

Then, as the Duke of Ferrara would put it, all screams stopped at once.

In my defence, it was your fault, by and large.

It was my - what's the phrase I'm looking for - "grand passion", is it?

My grand passion for you that drove me to it, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat,

For you.

And also because I liked - oh, no!

No, you don't - don't you dare to bare your claws yet -

No pheromones in those steely points,  trust me, or in those sharp canines either, for that matter.

Your fangs and claws are best wrapped in chiffon, my love!

Oh, how you long to sink them in my carotids, don't you! 

And gladly would I open them up for

You, my darling; but first, one question, if you please.

And I suggest you be honest. (Ugh, the subjunctive!

Your bane, and my only other weakness.)

Tell me, did you ever feel the gnawing desire that ate into my heart, 

Did you hear the sound of my wrenching gut, 

Every time I saw you with him? 

Every time you looked at him the way you never looked at me? 

Can I believe that you could, 

for an infinitesimal moment, feel for me as you felt for him? 

If it be so, then life's worth living again, despite this dungy earth!

No, I didn't think so.

It will always be him. 

I thank you for your candour;

And that makes us even, I suppose.

Well, now, perhaps we'll wait for each other, in the dark, forever.

Nothing ever changes. 

You; me; our covariant doom,

Particles bound in spooky action

Light-years deep in space;

Behind that door on broken hinges, nothing changes.

Or, does it, my leopardess?

In the end, we are all fodder for the meat grinder.

Except when meat and grinder change places often,

And blood runs cold at the sight 

Of the honeycomb in the rotted worm-eaten lion:

The eater that brought forth meat.