His knowledge

his fingers bore no nails
and he smelled of the musty
realm he crept out of from
behind the wooden bookshelf

moonlight shared in his
pale gray flesh that gleamed
between the shadows cast
by stark and soulless window panes

he arched over my body
and turned dark as the night
from which he fell out of
behind the wooden bookshelf

his breath was a silent fog
that enveloped my throat
seizing the air from my lungs
and freezing any movement

his snarl and bearing teeth
were hell fire upon my cheek
a sulfurous kiss from his world
behind the wooden bookshelf

his tongue tasted the saline
cascades flowing from my eyes
it was a flame tasting the energy
of the dark, the unknown, the fear

I watched from a nearby corner
when he sank his dagger teeth in
and I grasped the stone wall that ran
behind the wooden bookshelf

his body pounced on mine
the lurches flickered in the dark
he savored every bite of my flesh
as he trembled in horrific delight

I grew colder and number there
in seeing him devour what was left
and slowly crept as he had crept from
behind the wooden bookshelf

he didn't seem to notice or care
as I neared where I had laid before
beside him I stood and stared
at blood soaked bones and linen

he finished, belched and rose
the moon met his bloody gray flesh
passing through me, he returned to
his world behind the wooden bookshelf