This doesn't happen all the time,
not even often.
I'd go so far as to say
it tends to go forgotten.
However...
There's an element there,
one that ceases neglect,
one that remembers
how simple and perfect
this one
random
act can be.
I'm not sure who it is
- but I never really need to be.
I don't recall most of them,
but there is this little part of me
that can't forget
each face.
It's not catching them wide-eyed,
so they can see me smile,
as I affect their death.
It's that scent
-when you get close enough-
when adrenaline senses
catch
the panic on their last breath.















Comments
nice imagery, nice sense-alertness.
--
spysays :
I write to watch the pen dance...
--
My page...
My job... W.I.P
-
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