Poetry: Like Noah’s Ark Wrecked


No tongue, I read your lips with mine,
You’ll have none of that, a vampire out to dine.
Switch, teeth in the flesh of my neck,
Wild animals on the loose like Noah’s ark wrecked.

Act 1, Scene 2. I want you, a statement of fact,
But you won’t reel me in until the second act.
You’re a lap dance at a dead party, I’m alive,
But this, who knows how long I will survive?

Bare chest to bare chest, fingertips inches apart,
Cardiac drumming, there’s an African tribe in my heart.
Chaos, flashing spears of telepathic messages: need,
I am become the prey, cornered, you pounce to feed.

Blood spurts, a tropical storm of red,
Your eyes are glazed over. Lust. Dread.
Is this what it feels like to broken? Please, do it again.
This here is a different kind of pain. Make it rain.