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.

Aberjhani

© All Saints’ Day 2005