She stands under the moonlight-
Bathed in cold white light
Dressed in stained white linen
The smile of a Cheshire twisting
Her young, hollow-eyed face-

             And rightly, you are afraid.

She wades into the murky waters,
Dress spreading around her like a fan,
Fingernails drawing ripples in the still water
While her pupils enlarge to swallow her iris

Whole, to take up all light-
             And rightly, you are afraid.

She comes out of the water dripping,
Tinged the color of rust, old blood,
Old machines. A jagged smile, hand
Gripping something- something raw

Something still moist and warm-
               Rightly, you stagger back, terrified

She sits it before you, a piece

Of meat. Smiles, pushes it towards you,

An offering. You hesitate, reach forward

And touch it- it beats- you startle back

Devil, you sneer, damned creature!
             She just cocks her head and waits

You wait, trembling under the moonlight
Oppressed by her obsidian gaze

At a crossroads, your hand hovers above
The warm lump. Meat of man, indeed.

The wind rustles her damp dress,

             And you pick it up, and close your eyes,
             And eat of it.

It tastes of a storm

Of violent emotion purged

Found deep within the swampy morass

Pulled from the depth of the earth

From the depths of her mind and given to you,
Gleaming with ectoplasm
And blood.

"Demon," you whisper, your mouth
Full and choking on her sacrifice.
Blood stains your teeth the color
Of poppies, of soldiers fallen in snow.

"Eat of me, then," she returns, smiling-
Revealing row after row of
Shining black teeth.