I am a wolf among ravens,
A transient beast coated in black and silver,
My touch was tenebrous and cold,
Yet I feel your ache -
As unrequited moans ululate
While trembling fingers fumble in honied perversions
Picturing the unseen numinous shape,

I am but an appetite.

Hereupon the cusp of nightfall,
Hear the lugubrious wails crash the panes,
Stained glass refracting artificial,
If you close your eyes,
Look past empyrean gates
Into the coruscating twilight
You will find me there.

Would it be all that you dreamt?
If you could sate your hunger,
Fill your *** with swollen flesh,
Would you then feel the syncretic pull
Break like opposed magnetic ends,
Or is it the chase you crave?
The shadow that slakes pale fingertips in silken wet,
Expression digressions in such southern salivation.

Are you still hungry,
If I gave you the meal you crave;
Would the attention offered -
Provide solace and end your endless need,
Or will you still beckon for more?

I am but an appetite.