Wednesday, February 24, 2010


Hold still now; don’t move

Precious one,

Scented desire beckons to me

Trickling over my skin and heightening my need

Your blood sings my name

Can you hear it?

Your body pressed tightly beneath mine

My tongue dances along the curve of your neck

Lapping at your silky offering

Tasting the rhythm of your heartbeat

Fangs lengthen and ache

A deafening hunger

Your fear mingles with anticipation

Splintering my control

One whispered word of welcome fills my soul



  1. Mmm mmmm Good! Thanks for the tingles all over!

  2. I need a cold shower. Thx, for your tantalizing poem. As always, your poem(s) fill me with the good stuff, Lady Wookie. I like it! ox

  3. Love "splintering my control" -The lusty vampires shall inherit the earth!

  4. Love it. I knew you would do a great job with the subject. "One whispered word of welcome fills my soul...... Yes.... " Wow.

    The vampire's thirst transcends all sexual desire and in moments may seem to climb to the heights of love... true love.. tortured love... perhaps even unrequited love.. all illusion. You have captured this beautifully in the poem. Deep desire.

    Some will see it as lusting, but I see it as a need to posses... a need to fill that which is missing within the vampire... For a moment to feel the ecstasy of being complete. It's all fantasy, because we all know the vampire will look to feed again. It will look to satisfy that Hunger.

    Okay, so are you working on the next one? ;)