The liquor wafted its way
scorching the dimly lit path.
His hot and heavy breath pounced
on the back of my neck,
burning worse than his throat as he
tossed back one shot after the other.

I am scared, but I remain calm.
I do not want him to have the satisfaction
that men like him get from a hunt.
I wonder if he can sense my hesitance,
or if he is so utterly intoxicated.
the kind of intoxication that excuses such behavior.