The laugh to which so many before him have fallen prey.
Her talks of her dreams, the past, and the future
Rehearsed so many times that it is now perfect...
Her moves, swift and graceful
She bends down to remove her stilettos and steps onto the dance floor,
Left hand around the prey's shoulder,
His hand around her waist.
They danced the night away
And went to his place right after.
The door was shut.
The next day, she stepped out, adjusted her mask, and repeated her yesterday.
The unending cycle.
The increasing list of victims.
A free woman, laughing into the dark of the night in an alley.
A cigar in her mouth.
I wrote this poem in class today. I want to know what you as a reader make this girl out to be. Do let me know. Thanks. Hope you enjoy it.