reading book with the same title by Stephenie Meyer ...*

There you stood in
the pouring downpour
each raindrop dressed
in the scent of
your damp feral being


I gaze long and hard
at those hands
how beautiful they looked!
maybe they were those
of a sculptors
having sculpted
a thousand deaths before
with sheer perfection


Every time
lightening struck
the night would morph from
gray to black to ocher
just like…
those eyes
of yours (?)


those strides promised ecstasy
as they advanced towards me


only when the fangs
dug deep into my fevered flesh
could I Smell blood for the first time
crunchy…salty and peppery


I never wanted the rain to end