Poem: Soft as the Moon

In the soft beaming light of the moon
her scent, her silhouette is calling me.
A step faster just to reach her,
just to touch her.
Her face seemed scared
but in the moonlight is a pleasant gesture.
I am just five steps away
and my beauty fainted on the soft grass.
Her figure is calling me.
I take her body,
I touch her bosom,
her hair is soft and her pulse is not felt.
She is as soft as the beaming light of the moon.
Her tongue is tasty,
her flesh like home made food,
all of her guts still warm.
I am glad to eat her.