I know

The blank envelops - a mist, a cover, a ploy. I know
Reverberates into this place deep, dark, divided
The end beckons, lures, lurks
I hide from him

He is on the street by the window. I know
His gaze settles on the sill
The sounds from his steps hang by the curtain
I think of a voice

He is at the door. I know
I let his arrival crawl under my skin
The pleasantries scratch at my patience, tire me
I think of a smell

The minutes will take hours. I know
The evening folds in my arms
I will the light to go away
I think of a face

He is here now. I know
He opens the door, I shut myself
It starts, I end
I think of a last breath

He will never come again. I know
The knife under the bed glistens red