The Reckoning

• Aiman Fatima, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2016

She places her hand on my knee & it sears through my jeans
Leaving its eternal imprint onto my skin
Her gaze and my heartbeat are locked in battle
And try as I may but I just cannot win
She exhales, I sigh
She rises, I cry
A furtive glance she casts my way and stalks away, beckoning
I have no choice, enslaved am I, so I follow her through to my reckoning.