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. 

 

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Furry (an acrostic poem)

 

Fraser combed his arm hair against the grain

Unleashing waves of golden amber hair to crash back upon hardened muscle

Rays of sunlight danced upon the same golden coat covering his back

Really he figured he should shave some of it off

Yet there was the fun of the mystique of being part werewolf that he enjoyed

 

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