This title is from the new book VISIONS OF A SKYLARK DRESSED IN BLACK.
All My lovely vampires went to hell last night.
And the diamond fangs of malice
that so pleasured my throat’s whimpering pulse
sparkle bright upon the screaming lawn,
the final gifts of my destroyed lovers’ passion.
How did horror strike such a final blow?
And why did misery rape the happiness that was mine?
With fingers too slick with red, eyes too thick
with lust, no one saw the deadly moment approach.
I had sat as always, atop a table of rose quartz ––
in the center of a golden platter. Sugared grapes
circled my feet, honeyed almonds, camellias and
roasted fowl were garnish around my thighs and hips.
The time had come to bleed and I shuddered with
exquisite anticipation. With rhythms hidden and delicious
my blood swelled into drops that slid through my pores
and sang welcome to the hunger of the vampires.
It was pride that claimed me when a single tongue
tasted my left calf, and joy when another teased
my neck. Fingers two thousand years old wet themselves
on my ruby-stained belly and trembled wildly
on their way to quivering lips. My throat was already
between two fanged mouths when the stranger appeared.
It was not in my nature to feed upon others.
Only to allow others to feed upon me.
Yet there burned a flame in the veins of this stranger
which stirred even my desire. The vampires all
turned away from me and too eagerly, far too eagerly,
flew beside the stranger’s splendid naked form.
He offered himself supremely, the bronze wrists
presented like twin virgins, his throat a gleaming new altar,
his sex a calm crescent moon, the eyes two oceans
filled with the roaring soul of the sun.
Bewilderment froze my brain as I watched: muscle by
muscle, and organ by organ his flesh tore between their howls.
Then: the smell of blood gave way to an aroma of light.
Eternity bled rapture and forty-eight vampires exploded entrails.
I woke up on the rose quartz table, blinking at sunlight.
Clean blood sang through my veins while around me
the heads and limbs of vampires evaporated
into a yellow nothingness. Damnation was all the beauty
I had ever yearned for. Who had saved me
when I had had no desire to be saved?
Soft upon my right thigh, an oddly-colored kitten
meowed the melodies of angels playing violins.
© All Saints’ Day 2005