Clandestine meeting
A midnight crossing
Cobblestone glows
Gentle orange in the candlelight
Two patriarchs exchange
Weathered papers
Heavy purses
Light footsteps tip a tap
Here she comes
Somehow they know it
Spin in circles
Nothing but shadowed shapes
Drawn in the corners of their eyes
She comes from shadow
Rise
She emerges from the silhouette
Cast by the bodies of middle aged men
As if she were but paper
Solidifies with a knife
And then she slits throats
Usual