He opened the message then,
sensing worms worked in code
below the surface, sent again
into his box, his own abode.
At least he was predictable –
no steady sense at all. Never,
until now, had she been able
to lay her points so bare – clever.
Attachments at the bottom put
dread in his heart. They portended
nightmares, like her rustling foot
on the stairs, where covers ended
and night exposed him to the air
before she stole his primal dare.
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