Wednesday, June 6, 2018

My Vampire Bride

My Vampire Bride
© Surazeus
2018 06 06

Who lives in the old house on the high hill
all covered with vines and flocks of white crows
that looms over the town of factories
where poor people make furniture and clothes?

Late afternoon I slip over the brick fence
and creep close to the porch of splintered wood
and the girl in a yellow dress with lace
taps my shoulder and smiles with silver eyes.

Petting small white cat that purrs at her breast,
she holds my hand and leads me to the garden
where we sit together at the glass table
and she serves me tea with sugar and milk.

While I sip tea and gaze in her large eyes,
silver as the full moon over a wood lake,
she tells me adventures of her white kitten,
how he fought and killed a large rattlesnake.

Sunlight glows in soft haze around her hair,
shimmering with sweet scent that emanates
from curls that spiral over her small breasts
as her soft voice enchants my mind with dreams.

I see her white cat grow into a dragon,
and in her silver eyes I see red strikes
of lightning that crackle from a clear sky,
and shadow of a werewolf glides behind me.

I turn and see a narrow path writhe deep
into grove of trees who open gold eyes
and reach green hands to embrace my wild heart
so I ask her why the apples run like beetles.

I gaze into bright shimmer of her eyes
while she reaches her right hand from the sky
to twist my eyeballs so I can see more clear,
adjusting how my mind receives thought rays.

I walk beside her in the shadowed woods
while she explains how babbling brooks recite
ancient poems from the beginning of time
through sparkling laughter on clear crystal rocks.

I watch her skipping in short yellow dress,
ribbons flapping behind her like owl wings,
while she reaches slender arms to grasp clouds
and shape them into angels with bird wings.

On patch of golden grass where blue flowers glow
she stops and faces me in rays of light
that stream through twisted fingers of old trees
and holds both my hands with her slender hands.

Soft as butterflies her little hands touch
aching beat of my heart that swells like gush
of waterfall roaring over jagged rocks,
then holds my face and slowly kisses me.

Sweet lightning flashes through my aching mind
so I slip my arms around her slender waist
and pull her close to hug her to my heart
as she yields to passion of my desire.

She stretches backward on the bed of flowers,
becoming hills and valleys of her flesh,
so I loom over her in rumbling cloud
that fills her river with gush of my rain.

She clamps her legs around my thrusting thighs
and bites my neck while fingers claw my back,
and we together at bright flash of lightning
become the world that spins in blazing void.

I disappear into vast sea of her eyes
at timeless moment when the eye of flame
bursts brighter than ten thousand suns to glow
trembling at the sparkle of light on water.

I wake from dream of creation to see
sweet pleasure glowing on her rose-red cheeks,
and silver eyes open to flash the sky
as she smiles and kisses me with sweet joy.

Holding each other by the flowing stream,
hearts beating with soft rhythm of its waves,
we smile and kiss, and intertwine our fingers,
glowing with the pleasure of shared release.

Just as the sun sets blazing behind trees,
she sobs and wipes tears from her rosy cheeks,
and whispers, "My father does that to me
every night, even though I look my door."

Fierce shock of rage jolts through my trembling chest
as she looks up at me with silver eyes,
and pleads, "Free me from prison of his hands,
and take me far away to paradise."

"Take me away," she grips my trembling hand,
and gazes into abyss of my eyes,
"for I want to be with you in your garden,
or else you must kill him to set me free."

Beside the river in the gathering dusk,
I hug her tightly to my beating heart,
then leave her in the trees while I approach
her ancient house that looms above our town.

Slipping through the door, I creep up the stairs,
and glide down the hall toward the open door
where the oil lamp gleams on the large wood desk
as the old man writes with white feather quill.

Startled at my sudden appearance, he
shrieks and leans back, repelled by my strange face,
so I howl and leap up onto his desk,
then kick the oil lamp so it soaks his coat.

Flames erupt from the shattering oil lamp
and leap onto his chest to drink the oil,
then flare bright to envelop his whole body
as he writhes, arms flailing, and screams in horror.

Running down stairs, I grab bucket of water,
and leap back up to throw it on his corpse,
dousing the flames before they burn the house,
then stare at him as he lies dead in dusk.

I run to town and bring the police back,
telling them how I was passing his house
and saw him through the window wreathed in flames,
then doused him with water, but he was dead.

Sitting with the girl by the large stone hearth,
after everyone leaves, taking his body,
I hold her hands and gaze in silver eyes,
heart beating with desire to kiss her lips.

"Now we can live together in your mansion,"
I smile and lean forward to kiss her mouth,
and she smiles as she thrusts into my heart
the sharp blade of laughter, which she twists tight.

"Now I am free," she gazes down at me
as I lie trembling on the cold hard floor,
then she dips two fingers in my hot blood
and paints her lips red, then sucks my soul dry.

I wake in bed beside her in moonlight,
and, sitting upright, startled at my death,
I touch my chest, but find no bleeding wound,
then gaze at her rose cheeks in silver glow.

Gazing at my bride, slender in my arms,
I caress her hair, shoulder, arm, and thighs,
delighting in the beauty of her form,
and ache with love as I drift back to sleep.

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