Foreplay

It’s the witching hour, midnight,

Time for the ghosts of the past

To wander about, when the veil

Is thinnest with the world.  The

Time is right, for now I can

See, by the light of the moon,

Shining down full and bright.

Turn out the light, so that I

Might linger, ever nearer, to

My prey.  I’ve caught his scent,

Wafting upon the winds of

Change that blow serenely.

Let me caress that neck!

Gentle kisses along the nape,

Trailing down from the sweetest

Of kisses.  Ah, the taste of your

Lips!  Drown me with thy kiss,

Lose me to the waves of thy soul.

Let me place that deadly kiss,

Upon thy neck right now.  I want

To taste thy soul, let it flow and

Mingle with mine.  Thy life is like

That of the sweetest wine, as I

Plunge into this foreplay of blood.

(c) 2003 A Riddle