There was something centipedal
in his violet stare
that made her skin itch.

There was the way
he moved so close
in the crowded party room
there was nothing to do
but keep backing away
in a trapped circle
spilling her drink.

There was his conversation,
laced with innuendoes
subtle and not so.

His species possessed
such refined beauty
and slender grace,
what could he want
with a human woman?

Slumming was he?
Well this was one slum
where there would be
no tales to tell!

Forget beauty and grace!
She loathed his
inverted seashell ears,
the way his tongue
flicked across
his lipless upper lip.

He was very close now,
the force of his
violet eyes inalterable,
the lightning and
thunder rush
of his thoughts
melding with her own.

"Shall we go?" he hissed,
thin lips barely parting.

She finished her drink
and took his arm,
consumed by his beauty,
divined by his grace.

Bruce Boston is the author of thirty books, including the novel Stained Glass Rain. His work has appeared in hundreds of publications, including Asimov's, Year's Best Fantasy and Horror, and the Nebula Awards Showcase, and won numerous awards, including the Grand Master Award of the Science Fiction Poetry Association.