《A Writer and A Serial Killer》The Serial Killer

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he could drown in her eyes

a kaleidoscope of colors

there is no beauty without some strangeness

did a poet say that?

she is breathtaking strangeness from the frizzles of her hair to her changing eyes and combat boots

he sits across from her and for the first time in weeks his hands stop shaking

she asks him questions and he lies

why were we a match

he asks

she smiles

why did you go to that sight in the first place

what were you hoping to find

He fingers the broad black band of his watch before answering

someone who would understand

her smile is a revelation

he could live like this if the voices would let him

will they ever stop demanding

kill

hurt

take their eyes and fingers

you know you enjoy it

he watches her silently

will you save me?

or will you end up like the rest?

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