The Visitor
The Visitor  poetry stories

summit Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
She glanced at the clock, it was two in the morning..

The Visitor

She glanced at the clock

It was two in the morning

She reclined on the futon

Stretching and yawning

She heard it suddenly

A gentle tapping

Was it the ticking time?

Were sounds overlapping?

She must be tired

Or so she thought

But she heard it again

And knew she 'ought

To look out the window

Impossible it would be

For someone to be tapping

But she must go and see

She hesitated

What would she find?

She steadied herself

And drew the blind

What trickery was this?

It played with her head

A man stood there

But floating instead

Before she could reason

She caught his glance

As if in a waking dream

She fell into a trance

He was the most handsome man

She had ever seen

With dark silken hair

And eyes of green

He gestured to her

To let him inside

So she opened the window

It was plenty wide

He drifted in

And hovered above her

She wished so deeply

That he would love her

Smiling softly

He sensed her trust

And he saw that her body

Was quivering with lust

He brushed her hair from her neck

And whispered in her ear

'You have invited me inside

And now I am here'

He took her in his arms

They began to float

As he sunk his fangs

Deep into her throat

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