She stares down through the open window;
sheer ragged curtains flap gently inward,
casting thin moon shadows on linoleum.

Her bare toe traces the square pattern habitually,
with the slow sensuous movement
of a crooning night melody.

She watches the dark contour of a man in the street,
barely illuminated by the dimming lamp;
watches as he turns and clicks down cracked pavement.

Her brown chest constricts, sigh persuaded forth,
and deep eyes follow his swaying walk
as hope fades.

In her hand is a reflection of the moon on metal,
curved to the shape of the barrel;
her finger strokes the trigger.

She raises her hand, pulls;
the melody reverberates on the window panes
an unforgiving song, an irreversible song.

She stares down through the open window;
sheer ragged curtains flap gently inward,
casting thin moon shadows on linoleum.