Glistening in the lamplight
Low slung dress
Revealing soft white skin,
And blue blood veins
That pulse beneath the surface.

Through the frost filmed window pane
I see you laugh,
Your body ripples from the sound
That escaped your lips,
But never reached your heart.

He touches your hand,
But you pull away
Posturing with coyness,
Feigning heavy lids
And drowsy thoughts.

You stand,
Every movement like an intricate ballet,
And he kisses you good evening,
His idle hands
Lingering on your porcelain arms.

I can see you shudder,
At him,
At this life,
At this façade of tea
And tediousness.

You step into the night,
Wrapping your arms around you
As you watch his carriage disappear in the fog.
You do not see me,
As I melt and blend with the darkness.

The horses’ hooves are but a distant tap,
Yet you linger,
Your warm breath producing icy clouds
That billow and are gone
Without a notice from anyone.

I can hear your thoughts,
Your desires,
Your forbidden secrets
That would not match the china
Nor compliment your gown.

For one brief moment I hesitate,
Loath to alter the portrait
Standing bright against the night
All flesh and blood and bone
And thought.

But in that instant I hear it,
The deafening pulse
That hides beneath a woman’s frame
That calls to me
Like a siren song.

I hunt her in your stead,
Emerging from the shadows
Like a demon come to life,
Feeling my hands, my breath, my knife,
Cool against her warm skin.

With one penetrating kiss
She is mine,
The white, the blue,
The bright, the dark,
The flesh, the bone.

And the rhythm,
Always the rhythm in my ears,
Beating and pulsing
Pushing me onward
‘Til I posses that too.

Then slower and slower,
Until I’m left in silence.
I can still taste the odd mixture
The salt, the blood, the fear
That lingers on the wind.

For one brief moment I hesitate,
Loath to alter the portrait
Glassy eyes reflecting the night
Imagining your face
A mask of flesh and bone and blood.