Across a not-so-crowded room
she sits and watches,
wondering who might be the next victim,
there is a glance, a smile,
a sly turn of her head.
"He's mine" she says in a low voice,
her hands slide back and forth
as she plots her next move.
She stands and walks slowly toward the door
turning to see if he notices,
he does, and the web is complete.
Without saying a word, she has communicated
her wants, her needs, her desires...
her time is now, and he becomes her next meal.
Copyright © George Aul