Naked man running across frozen lake

Another day of work.
It’s a quarter past three.
She peers into the mirror.
Who is she?
Have her eyes always been cold;
her expression so blank?
She does what she’s told.
Is her soul intact?

In front of his condo,
she parks on the street.
His back door’s unlocked
just like she said it would be.
Climbing the carpeted stairs
to the third room to the right.
She catches him dressing,
leans against the door,
enjoys the sight.

Their eyes meet.
Who are you?
He sees the gun in her hand
and freezes.
My ex-wife sent you I’m sure of it.
I’ve wondered how deep her hatred ran.
At the edge of the bed, he sits.
Now I understand.

Close your eyes and lie back.
He does without hesitation.
She straddles him
with the gun pressed against his neck.
The smell of her perfume
and her breasts against his chest
turn him on.
He must be mad.

Her soft cheek brushes
his chin as she whispers softly,
Keep your eyes closed
and count to twenty.
When you’re done,
I’ll be gone.
Don’t stop to pack.
Just run.
Don’t look back.

*Photo from Huffington Post