A Night With An Old Flame

She's licking at the window pane,
Curling the glass,
Distorting her twisted frame,
Pressing for release.

Don't let her near the bed, they said.
Don't let her out the door,
She's bent upon destruction,
And evil to the core.

She's in your room by night,
Creeping up the walls,
Smearing fingers down for spite,
Questing for a breath of cool night air.

And then she's gone.
That mistress of the twilight hours.
And all that's left is the mess you made,
The two of you beyond your powers.