a place to muse about creating things...
'And the stairs were brushed and clean,
Her shoes paired on the bottom step,
Each tread marked with the red crescent
Her bare heels left, fading to the faintest at the top.'
This is such a cinematic poem, full of mystery, attraction, drama and danger. Does he dare to follow her?
It is full of strong images. I love this poem, the bloody footprints fading with each step up the stairs. I think he followed her...