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Vampyre

So succulent
the slender
slope of flesh
that travels to your

clavicle
where the constellations
of my cravings
course and coalesce

So intoxicating
is your
incense
inflaming my senses

firing fervid
frenzied fevered
fingers flaming
through my frame

sated only by
incisors sinking
savagely
in your skin

Life leeched
lustfully
lingering liquidly
lovely

pulsating
prettily pouring
perfectly
poetically

Destined
drink
of death
Divine.
Written by harliequin
Published
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