Once the still night falls,
Their emaciated figures slowly emerge
Against the soft light of the moon,
Lurking in the shadows of my room
And within the hollows of my soul.
They hover over me as I lie
Faint and weak upon my bed,
Then they take me by the hand,
And we dance.
Glowing with scarlet hunger,
Their eyes know my own
And we hunger together,
Denying ourselves pleasure,
Yet delighting in our discipline.
We revel in my diminishing form,
For soon I shall be one of them,
Performing my wanton dance
Within the deep shadows
Of another woman's tenebrous room.
I find comfort in their presence,
My ravenous demons,
For without their company,
I would be forced to face
The quiet night alone.
K. Brittany Fedorev Vanderkleed
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