The Duelist

In the time it takes a handkerchief to fall to the ground

One of our lives will be over

Brocade waistcoat catches glints of morning light

Silk damask swathed in bottle green memories

We've traveled from station to station

We now approach our final destination

The only way to awake you was to slap your face

So stand up straight and let me take on final taste of you

Before we walk the agreed number of paces

And turn to face our fate

The coup de grace delivered so delicately

You always had such exquisite taste

Morning sky stretched tight as a drum

Tension released in an instant

Brocade waistcoat flecked with blood in the golden light

You were dead before you even hit the ground

We've traveled from station to station

Now we've reached our final destination

Watch all trace of color draining from your face

Stoop to take my final taste, one final taste of you

And ice crystals always have 6 points

Though every one's unique

They melt on the tongue and no one's ever counted them all

But you've tried

You

You so cool and calculated

A real cold fish

So measure this

So measure this