Basking in Her Rebirth
The Diary of an 18th Century Vampiric Aristocrat
The night creatures howl for they long to have her
For her red stained lips and her lustful hips
As she tempts her men with the gift of lead on
But I am the only one whose felt her desire
I watch her lay and count her breaths
And I comb her hair in the place she rests
Alone and free to scour her lair and Iris draws her curtains and whispers
That I am still her best and all I do she counts as fair
Patriarchal footsteps intense and muffled climb their way into my world
A fiend I am, I might as well be muzzled
The sight they could see, their daughter with me
A creature with bloodlust is more than just a curse
(I pressed close to her ear)
"A promised secret cannot be broken like the night when I first found you in distress, a mess, but you are now my mistress... Do you wish to be mine for an eternity you can melt in?"
With a graceful plunge and knowing hands I traced my prize with a lick of sin
Torn underwear and legs agleam
She opens her den wide just for me
And with my fangs fully out she cannot escape mortal demise
But in return, I birthed her right between her thighs
Her appearance is changed, her mindset deranged
It only excites me to see her unchained
For her to control and insert me herself is more than I asked of a lewd catholic girl
In spite of her father, its he I'd invite
To come one to come all, to watch on this night
To watch his daughter tempt me with her eyes
Makes it more wrong that it can ever be right
Something about the arch in her back and her hands in my hair
Tells me she's near release
She once told me not so long ago it seems
"Even if I scream and when I bleed,
Do not stop for me, you are all I need,
A life without you, if alone I must lie,
I would give up so as just to die."
She moves herself forward to me, so close and raised for deeper attraction,
I mustn't upset, must continue to venture to help her forget
With dark nails ripping straight through the flesh of my back,
With my mouth at her throat, her bedroom door was a crack...
About the Creator
Cici Evan
For me, my gift to use words in ways in which they were intended, to build cerebral watercolor pictures, induce catharsis, etc, is a great honor. I am so elated and giddy with finding a place like Vocal to connect with you all.
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