Lady Noire

Origin Story

Part I: The Entrance

A dark and stormy night,
lit only by the dim glow
of coin, passing
from one dirty hand
to a dirtier hand.

Nothing more exciting
than a good story, but
even dust bunnies
could perk my pointy ears up
tonight.

That is to say,
I am bored
out of my fucking mind.

Leather, rusted copper,
and musk. Without drama,
yet, the mood transformed
with his first step.

Broad shouldered and
more confident than a torero facing down
his bull. Eyes locked
and walking my way, waving
a red flag
into the path of unknown danger.

That is to say,
he did not look boring.

Part II: The Party

Muddy blobs of color
as if I were nearsighted
and had forgotten my spectacles
beside my bed that morning.

Indistinct voices swallowing
my head, drowning
my senses and spinning
me dizzy
with numbness,
with elation,
without a care in the world
except for Him.

Leather, rusted copper,
and musk. Sweeping
me off my feet yet again
and into another party.

Dice clattering against felt,
glasses clinking, and
laughter erupting
from my chest,
surprising even myself.

Heart swollen,
I have never wanted more.

Part III: The Curse

A rooftop,
slick with dew and grime,
a metaphor
for this ugly city
and its ugly deeds.

I know you,
he whispered
sweetly yet dripping, no,
soaked in venom.

Shit.

He knows me.

Shit.

It's Him.
It's always
Him. He,
who grabs me by the horns
and, with barely an ounce of strength,
shatters me against a wall.

Arms entangled, grasping
at flesh, groping
for an advantage.

Flashes of silver
slick with poison.

His back leans
against the sticky summer air
and nothing else.

You could never do it.
You love me too much.

Heels on the edge.
Hubris.

Leather, rusted copper,
and musk. The aroma
hurtling away from me
as I extended my arm,
panicked.

His smirk,
which I can still see
as clearly as I felt
the pain seizing my arm.

Needles piercing
hundreds of thousands microscopic holes
from the tip of my fingers
to my shoulder. A stark contrast to
His peaceful descent
hundreds of feet below
into the unknowing fog.

Part V: The Epilogue

He used to tell me
that I could never escape.
That we were fated.
That he would always find me.

I do not hide.
I swear this time
I will find you first.