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.