During the night,
I am the creature before you
pale and tall, skyscraper straight
magnum eyes firing towards you
gliding, lifting, steering, directing
I am the silent and the powerful
a moonlit field of smooth, untouched snow
But he
Yes, him, the other me
Oh, he would tremble in your grasp
his lily hand would crumble to your touch
he would twist to press your lips to his
he would stroke your silken cheek
and slide his corroded lips along your dove neck
Not I, you understand, the other me
he who squints
and hesitates
and weakens
in the daylight