All alone in the
big brass bed
you wait.
You’re late, my love!
Your body craves,
shivers, aches
with unfulfilled desires.
Where are you, my love?
A door bangs
A shutter creaks
He has come.
You are the moon
He is the night
You shine in his darkness
Engulfed by his touch,
slave to the rhythm
of his dance.
Later, in the empty bed
You wonder:
Was he really here?
Two ruby red droplets
on your pillow.
The legacy of his love.
Nothing quite like a little vampire lovin’, huh Chris?
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So, so true 🙂
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Spooky yet sweet. Great poem!
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Thanks Tom. A little bit of fun for the season 😉
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