"Of course she's a vampire"
my friend warned me.
"Haven't you noticed
how she has used you
to feed her craving -
her addiction?"
Why didn't I notice
when she first turned my way
that nothing behind her eyes
had ever known love,
joy, sympathy, affection?
She must have had
the song of the siren
in her voice
a certain magnetism
within her gaze.
What a fool I was
to believe otherwise.
"Isn't she even cold
to the touch?"
my friend asked.
I don't know how I got away,
how I broke free
of the trance...
I was startled to see her
picture in the paper
the other day
— only her eyes.
I didn't think you could photograph
the undead.