In the moonlight, she looked almost blue;

the silver of her hair, glowing-

the white of her smile, gleaming-

the amber of her eyes, burning.

In the moonlight, I thought I saw her shiver;

in the pale skin, a twitch-

in the lithe limbs, a tensing-

in the hot breath, a stutter.

In the moonlight, I met my death;

through her sharp teeth, biting-

through her long nails, rending-

through her rough tongue, savoring.

In the moonlight, she howled proud;

in the thin back, an arch-

in the wry bellow, a glee-

in the bleeding drops, my soul.