The Streets At Night

The Moon is her guide, as she waits
Patiently at dusk. She watches the
Sun fade quickly, behind safe haven
Of dark curtains, watching it fall in
The West just under the mountains.
An owl takes flight from a tree over
Yonder, signaling the time is now, the
Time for her to emerge from the shadows
Of her own personal Hell. She is swift,
Much like that of the owl, yet with the
Heated desire that makes her oh so much more!
Time is of the essence now, for with Summer
There is not much time of night. She slips
Through the shadows, lingering in thoughts
And hiding within the dreams of those
Wishing for immortality. Quickly, she spots
Her prey, walking alone in the night, through
The dim lights of street lamps, her soul
Seems to take flight. Within a moment, she is
Upon him, like a wolf taking down its meal,
As she whispers sweetly and places that deadly
Kiss upon such fragile skin. His life tastes sweet
Upon her tongue as it flows with ease from
The mark she’s left. Red life, life giving blood,
It sears her throat from the exquisite heat that
The body radiates and she can hear the heart
Pumping frantically, then slowing until death
Takes hold. A smile plays across her face, as
She licks the remnants of his life from pursed
Lips, just before propping the lifeless form
Against a lamppost, with bottle in hand.

(c) 2003 A Riddle