Red, rich. Streaming across a black sky, dark

creeping in from all corners, an invite

to play. To flee from the killer, a stark

warning to run before his teeth maim, bite

as the blood drips down her neck, warm. It’s wet,

she imagines, an alluring mark of

beauty, pain. She is desperate to bet on

the malice in his eyes, a pledge of love

turned dangerous, cold. Her body stops, still.

He treads, snarling, eyeing up his prey. Greed.

She smiles, a lilting thing, the pure will

to feel his teeth sink in and pierce. The deed.

A cry, red drops wilting down, a fresh bed

for her to lie on, red, rich, dying. Dead.