Silver (an acrostic poem)

 

She scowled at her reflection 

It was all angles, scars, and knots of muscle

Leaving her bereft of the soft curves she knew he desired 

Vapor poured into the window behind her 

Envisioning what was about to happen, she punched her image, shattering it 

Reaching for a shard, she let it fly, impaling the coalescing vampire.  “How about that curve?” she muttered. 

 

Image: 4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQPNm2CFPFU/Sq2pPxjd4BI/AAAAAAAAAAs/hP2oroqmQns/s280/Glass%25201.jp

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