empty bar.  silence.
hot sake.  frosted window.
snow in hokkaido.

she wore red for him because it was his
favorite color and she wondered if
he ever really noticed.  like, really
noticed.  the tight dresses, silk slips, even
stockings and bras.  that special shade of red.
not candy, crimson or cardinal.  it
was that unique hue.  or tint.  of blood.

dead leaves in the pool
half-floating crumples of rust
waving, waving, wav-

there was no full moon tonight. clouds covered
the stars and the only thing she could see
through the back door window was her own pale
reflection.  the red lipstick she wore looked
smudged in the contours of the glass. her son
was sound asleep upstairs and her husband
wasn't home yet. she was hungry and thought
she would sneak out for a bite.  it would be
quick, easy. a perfect dark for hunting.
she could change at will.  who needs a full moon.

twinkling whirl of light
spaghetti straps, satin dress
diamond glitter sweat

what do you want from that woman you want
do you want it all or just some of it
what's beneath all the want; is it a need
maybe it's a need to want and, that's life.

i've fallen under.
my own. spell. i now see. all
that i want. to see.