Echoes between two worlds

She moves like dusk
taking
human shape— a quiet, inevitable
dimming of the world,
not quite shadow, not quite light,
but a shiver that lives within.

Her skin carries a faint luminescence,
as though moonlight once kissed her
too hard
and never let go.
Yet beneath that soft glow,
her veins are rivers of night—
slow,
potent and starless.

Her eyes are the most telling thing about her—
opal-soft in stillness,
but when desire stirs,
they deepen into a red that feels
almost intimate,
as though she’s tasting your thoughts
before your throat.

Some nights she sits
on the roots of ancient trees,
listening as they whisper
her contradictions:
half-fae, night-borne daughter,
a promise and a threat.

Some claim her origin reaches back
to the first wound the universe ever made—
when darkness split open,
from that collision
came the lineage she carries
in her bones: an ancestry older than hunger.

Every scent of blood
is a dilemma.
Every glimmer of beauty
is a wound.
She longs for warmth
yet lives in the chill that birthed her.

And when she walks through the world,
the air itself seems to hesitate—
caught between opening as flower
or recoiling like prey.
If something so perilous
feels
this beautiful, what does that make
the ones who cannot look away?

Photo credits: Pinterest 

Lisa hosts at dVerse where she invites us to write about creatures. I chose to create
my own – half-fae and half vampire. Come join us! 💛

Posted for Poetics: Creature feature @dVerse Poets Pub