Close Encounter

something about your saunter

through the château halls, yesternight i saw

a certain dour to your throat forlorn

swift footed your steps formed echoes in stone

hauntering lowly of the chill found yonder,

your lips blurred under speed as you muttered

inhumane frequencies

"Lou, fou, tou"

whether you saw me i was unsure,

for your harkening cape would stop and turn

and though you were what seemed like fields afar

and your shape befallen ever the farther,

that lowly revelation behind a falling hood brought you closer to me

so that whilst i watched you behind that stonehead pillar i could feel your breath 

right upon my neck,

whispering in my ear,

𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥.

upon this i still wonder

whilst i walked in wonder

aggregating within the decrepit marble interior

any undead being, 

whether devil or demon, a close encounter.