Olive skin with high cheekbone
Cat like eyes, vacant, alone
But focussed, knows exactly why
It’s not her that is going to die
Only one winner in this covert kill
No time for any battle of wills
The strike will be sudden and unexpected
The minute the target is unprotected
Unaware of the danger within
this group of colleagues he trusted in
The woman smiles to catch his eye
In this place, only the elite can buy
Works of art, jewel and gold,
precious artefacts, riches untold
As a wine waitress she masquerades
Before she deals the ace of spades,
to the unsuspecting art dealer, infamous, rich.
Upon her features his eyes are fixed,
beguiled, besotted and bewitched.
On his deathly stare, she’s now transfixed.
The Urban Poet