i am not a crumbling temple
By: Linda M. Crate
sometimes all good things
must end,
and your fruit is about to rot
on the vine,
narcissus;
haunted and hunted by your
teeth and claw and ghosts have
haunted me for entirely
too long—
my body isn't a crumbling temple
ancient and cursed,
like the ruins
of your bones;
i am always going to be in my prime
divinity—
a damphyr born with the strength
of vampires,
and none of their weaknesses;
your fragility
will be shattered by a primordial rage
older than both of us
dancing in my veins.
-
HTML Comment Box is loading comments...