The Turning of Lucy Westenra
The tender of her body is untouchable, an inedible feast
Wasting winsomely, deliciously, bedside and bone-white
As her eyes glow iridescent in the latticed gloom —
Watch as her splendid skin sweats against the sheer chiffon,
Watch as she trembles with thirst, the spasms of her hands,
Which open and close like two pale birds,
Like wings fluttering in the dark.
Wasting winsomely, deliciously, bedside and bone-white
As her eyes glow iridescent in the latticed gloom —
Watch as her splendid skin sweats against the sheer chiffon,
Watch as she trembles with thirst, the spasms of her hands,
Which open and close like two pale birds,
Like wings fluttering in the dark.