Dracula

Onto the open veranda,
steps a figure.
A cloak slithers about his back, writhes across the tiled floor and flicks its corners in the wind.
His breathless body pauses,
waiting for the limp mannered girls inevitable invitation.

Without the aid of movement
he enters.
Dips his head in the slightest of greetings.
White lips twitch over glinting ivory teeth
Brown eyes glimmer in the moonlight
Coyly toying with the hearts imagination

He extends an arm,
unfolds a hand,
and waits.
He watches as the pulse quickens
transfixed by his alluringly tainted charm
A smile glitters at the corner of his lips as she succumbs
and he dips his head again, watching with eyes that never seem to look at you,
but for you.