As Twilight Feeds On Meyers Street

Stephanie inhaled the crisp atmosphere
As evening's Twilight canvassed the neighborhood
Enveloping her house at the end of block
Like a fictional shrouded vampire descending
Exanguinating the brilliant hues from the parkway trees
Whose dying leaves let of their blood
Were drying in the Autumn breeze
On mingling branches hanging over Meyers Street
Forming a darkened canopy that on occasion
Was even cause enough in itself for the bravest
And boldest hooligan walking underneath
To shudder

Sitting in the bedroom window
Left leg lazily hanging out the sill
If not for a pair of white cotton panties
And auburn curls draped over her bare breasts
She was almost nude

Waiting

Serene was this scene of daring to be seen
For the silent marauder to claim her body
Taking her soul merely along for the ride
Swaddled up its non corporeal cloak
To plant a loving bite upon her neck's nape
Before whisking her off and away through the chill
To where there was an neglected, overgrown graveyard
Just a hopscotch skip and a jump beyond the mobile home park
Attended nightly by the White Trash trailer park girls much like herself
Often sacrificing their daily born again virgin statures
Not so much like herself
On a ritualistic basis

Unfortunately,

She remained unseen in her bedroom window
Not even witnessed in her half naked glory
By any of the neighborhood boys
Who rarely afforded her more than casual glances anyway
During the daylight hours

She could not help but fancy notions
In the final fleetings of sunburst
That her life was a book of which she had no hand in writing
A novel that if made into a movie
The juicy details would be edited out
Scenes involving sex starved teens shedding their clothes
And inhibitions before the camera
Such gratuitious depictions of nudity
That always fail to enchance the plot
Yet nonetheless are somehow considered somewhat crucial prior
To the onscreen entrance of the escaped mental patient
As he tightens his grip on the handle of a butcher knife
Or perhaps a straight razor

Desperation to be loved
To feel wanted
Appreciated
Even if only for her body

Now entwined with the desire
To be bent over a marble headstone
And ravaged for the very first time
By a stranger in the Twilight