Savage

He is breathless, unshaven

and he stinks of stale sweat.

He carries a huge Bowie knife

and I sense he wants to gut me.

Suddenly I am strangely calm.

I notice his boots have left a trail

of grime. My girlfriend shall be mad.

A perplexed look visits the savage face.

He turns heel, and tramps noisily back

down the stairs, slamming the front door

brutally. I move over to Bella and hold her

tight. She is hiccuping tears, complaining

of pain through broken sobs. I reach

across for my mobile and call the police.

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