Conquest

I’ve come to play upon your pulse: I have my fangs… To ease a swollen line I spy Upon your neck – And what a satin slenderness! – Venus surely would agree – O that she would acquiesce Her vintage unto me! But now to tear your blouse asunder; Swell your silken breast before The thund’rous leer of demon’s eye! Sultry is her struggling dance – Erotic turns of torsion Show the torture of a bite! Come! Fling your soul aloft for me! Wailing tones of aerial pitch upon The perforation draw delight of pain and fear – Ah! to see them flame upon a maiden’s form! Be not forlorn my little thing; I sipped your lacy life away so You could in my arm display A pleasing death, Relieve yourself of humankind – A role anew to take, to find – As lips of blue awake your mouth – And there: the incandescent white Refulgent in the light of timid candles Hiding in the room. But now we fly before the morn – We must ourselves entomb! Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010 vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire vampire Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula Dracula