CRIMSON OBLIVION

I know you're there, I can feel you.

All ivory fangs, and emerald eyes.
your lips the shade of week old roses,
The length of your hair,
draped like flaming gossamer,
over your flawless, pale back.

I still feel the invisible marks on my neck,
my private reminder of your last visit.

I smell the jasmine of your skin,
taste the coppery, bitter sting of my blood on your lips.

I lay in my bed, reliving you.
wondering how long you'll hover in the darkness,
watching me.

I can feel you move with feline grace,
through the ebony silence between us.

feel your breath on my skin again,
the rake of razorlike nails across my chest,
this is why I live.

Needles of ecstacy buried in my flesh,
you penetrate me, and I enter you,
all that is me flows into you,
I feel myself spiral into your crimson oblivion.

I open soar and crying eyes,
with no evidence of your presence,
except the exquisite pain of my neck,
the leaden weakness in my legs,
and the emptiness of the room.




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