love poems to a vampire
Nosferatu 1
His body glides
forward
soft as a whisper
down the corridor
through the arch
silently awaiting reply
to his sublime presence.
His sleek fingered hands
frail and hypnotic
delicately gesture
a reception of intimacy.
He wraps you
in his cloak of sleep
and solemn
while you serve
spellbound
in his webbed
embrace.
A wash of calm
you never
dreamt
possible
unveils.
Nosferatu 2
His eyes are round
a hint of sweetness
trapped.
His eyes are black, innocent
and empty
oddly familiar
-like a monkeys.
His eyes are an open
window
where the wind blows
through
and the curtains
are never drawn.
His eyes are the invitation
that summon you
and only you
without a word,
"Fill me
fill me, my darling
fill me now
my life
depends upon it."
Nosferatu 3
While his
skull body
dusty white
lays within ground
sculpted
to his form
as the day
he was created
he folds
his hands
upon
a breathless chest
He is home.
© 1996 Denise Carson Wilde