deepundergroundpoetry.com
Vampyros Lesbos
I dream on a sea of black satin
Waiting for those ivory arms
To rise around me
Those crimson lips and cruel teeth
That have an appetite for
Purer blood than mine
I can never match their grace
As they catch the moon's magic
In their gowns
And star's cluster
In their hair
I can only offer
Another rough kiss
To those I adore
And waken to find
They've slipped away once more.
Art by David Zahir
Waiting for those ivory arms
To rise around me
Those crimson lips and cruel teeth
That have an appetite for
Purer blood than mine
I can never match their grace
As they catch the moon's magic
In their gowns
And star's cluster
In their hair
I can only offer
Another rough kiss
To those I adore
And waken to find
They've slipped away once more.
Art by David Zahir
Published 27th Feb 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8
reading list entries 2
comments 6
reads 984
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
I die for that sweet rough 💋
and for poems like this Thomas
..I love you...
and for poems like this Thomas
..I love you...
27th Feb 2016 7:49pm
Very nice, it left me wanting more from this ....totally a good thing
love the ending so very different than the usual
awesome :)
love the ending so very different than the usual
awesome :)
28th Feb 2016 2:36am
Anonymous
28th Feb 2016 1:12pm
Oh my, crow! Way to leave me wanting more!
28th Feb 2016 3:48pm
The captivating essence of a woman's magic, magnetic pull is so fierce within the subtext of
I can never match their grace
As they catch the moon's magic
In their gowns
And star's cluster
In their hair
A vampyro Lesbos reaches so much further, so much more depth to the animal center of us. I dig the isolation of this emotional note, illuminating that deeper value without drowning in the lustful hunger. Fecedia, the thirst still exists, but the maaaany shades of adoration are so infrequently exalted when we espouse the lovely and erotic horror. There's a substance to a horror Queen, past what a scream queen markets. I secretly (prolly blatantly by my actions) love by adoration someone I consider a horror Queen, hence slipping phrases such as "Morticia up/Elvira down" in some poems and unpacking the concept in conversation. The brush stroke of the emotion resonates with me upon re-reading
I can only offer
Another rough kiss
To those I adore
And waken to find
They've slipped away once more.
This piece provides learning and stays steamy each time. Thanks for releasing it Crowfly.
I can never match their grace
As they catch the moon's magic
In their gowns
And star's cluster
In their hair
A vampyro Lesbos reaches so much further, so much more depth to the animal center of us. I dig the isolation of this emotional note, illuminating that deeper value without drowning in the lustful hunger. Fecedia, the thirst still exists, but the maaaany shades of adoration are so infrequently exalted when we espouse the lovely and erotic horror. There's a substance to a horror Queen, past what a scream queen markets. I secretly (prolly blatantly by my actions) love by adoration someone I consider a horror Queen, hence slipping phrases such as "Morticia up/Elvira down" in some poems and unpacking the concept in conversation. The brush stroke of the emotion resonates with me upon re-reading
I can only offer
Another rough kiss
To those I adore
And waken to find
They've slipped away once more.
This piece provides learning and stays steamy each time. Thanks for releasing it Crowfly.
