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.