‘It is easy to see why each man
kills the things he loves…
To try to know a living being
is to try to suck the life out of that being…
The desirous consciousness,
the spirit, is a vampire.’*

Doomed lovers, how we cling to tragedy
in the end all love leads to death
veil of discovery and joy obscure the picture
transfixing us with embroidered beauty
until the fatal bite, irrevocable action
transmutes veil to funereal shroud

This pain arrives surreptitiously
thieving the interminable hours
pleading, screaming, weeping
my ineffectual gesticulations
elaborate disguise hides death as savior
skull covered, knotted flesh from fallacy

Seductive advances, potent virility
pathogenic bacteria reproducing
induce consumptive weakening
as I consider, your breath upon my face
skin aflame with feverish desire
will they burn my heart when I am gone?

* D.H. Lawrence
Linked to Blue Flute’s prompt on Vampires at dVerse Poets Pub: http://dversepoets.com/2012/04/28/poetics-vampires/

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