The chills of night set in
time for an awakening
the cold porous, beneath my skin
my coffin opens, time to begin

come, come my lovely, my feast
bare your neck, feed the beast
the hours nightly so short
I bite you with no regret

the air breathe us in
a soft sound escape
as I feed on you, my rose
the moment caught in sweetest prose

my bite consumes you, my slave
your teeth grow in my amber gaze
the hours nightly, so short
but I am its child, I am its lord.

(c) 2017 allen simpson

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