Written long before “Twilight” mania existed…I do mention eyes…but not as creatively as Ms. Meyer’s did, 567 times. =P

As his papery skin rustles at my touch
I look into his once fiery cold eyes
Now all but closed and pale
Only now I gaze upon his pallidness
Ever before he beseeched me to leave him be
His feverish countenance so vivid so hungry
All I saw only of his fine days fully lazy and sated
My slumber ever unacquainted
His sombreness and secrecy ever unquestioned
Always so cold and deep
And then asudden glowing within
Amused yet distant
Almost afeared to be near me
Yet now here he begs afore me
Dry lips move to whisper
For just one soft light