Quaking
#2 of Poetry
A perspective in the exquisite delicacy of vampirism
Quaking
Though you are not with me
I can fell you
Though your skin isn't pressed to my lips
I can smell you
All of you
Your body and skin call out to me in writhing need
Oh, that wonderful scent of iron
That ever sweet, rusty, life source
My own humanity blurred in its very thought
Teeth gnashing
Maw watering
Barbaric instincts roaring through my soul
Echoing
Its howl bouncing off of my rib cage
Come to me
Present me your offering
Give me the ones that touch could never compare to
Let me delve into your very insides
The hot, thick elixir coursing through you
I shake in anticipation
Fantasy barraging my brain with it's artillery
BOOM
My razor's edge finds it's mark
BOOM
Your flesh gives it's greeting
BOOM BOOM BOOM
Lips surging, teeth gnashing
I'm blinded
I want this
NO
I NEED THIS
I require all every drop the body has to offer