One wise merchant:
once tried to sell you a concept.

There you were,
lounging on the street,
like any half decent loiterer,
when this haphazardly placed shawl,
bumped you to a wall.

Tattoos fluttered along their brow,
their mouth shimmied from one thought to the next,
and this,
gypsy of a fool,
was trying to sell
the thought
that you would die.

Knife to throat,
fist to rib,
eye to eye,
it was a convincing proposition,

but ultimately,
only a salesman's pitch.