CROSSED LINE

It had to go down eventually
Things were getting prickily
Layers of deception
over a fitted sheet
Warm hearts are chilled
by unblanketed cold feet
Movement robotic
with metal sound
No speaking allowed,
Things were bound to go down

The welcome mat leads
to the pending back door
Paths heading that way
Steps marked on the floor
Mouths closed in silence
Eyes fixed in a stare
while meaningless chatter
hangs in the thick air
Wrist with balled fist
sport the watch tightly wound
timing the bomb's ticks...
It was bound to go down.

(C)PAULEYP