on a hushed and eigengrau night,
I danced with a certain devil
my heart was loud, his steps were light
my appearance was disheveled
—but little did he care—
he held me fast, our faces were level
we were undoubtedly a pretty pair,
I and my wicked master;
we moved in time to his bewitching airs
which whipped and whirled ever faster:
I could see naught but the devil’s eyes
and to his frame I was plastered.
oh! never before had I felt so alive—
and truth be told, there is more to describe.
@diabhal-sceal, “terza rima for a devil”