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Lights dim and air cloudy A fat joint on the left corner of my lips Taking a long slow drag of it My lungs hurt Wide doe eyes stare up at mine Focused, expecting Pink mouth slightly agape In want, perhaps Faces inch closer Lips connect The smoke leaves my lungs Flooding yours Faces now barely apart You blow the grey cloud into my face We are both lightheaded With want, perhaps Possibly in a dazed high My fangs tingle with the need to bite Your bottom lip barely an inch away from mine Enticing Plump and begging to be bitten Eyes darken as if in a dare ‘Bite me!’ They scream How could I deny you anything I bite, careful not to break skin The tips of my fangs crave to I deny them Instead focusing on the soft sound Flowing steadily from your throat Your throat Wouldn't it be heaven If I impaled it with my teeth? My right hand finds it's way to it Squeezing lightly An added pressure and you're limp in my arms Surrender Your whine is a song in my ears It has not ceased since our lips met Our lips They now dance in sync as I gather you in my lap The hand on your throat loosens Pupils are blown wide Eyes glazed over I squeeze again Eyes slowly shut Your hips are now in soft motion Back and forth, forth and back My thigh is a rock under you There's a familiar warmth there Where your body meets mine A familiar sound leaving your lips in little breaths Laced with want perhaps You bare your neck Slender and untouched I dive for the kill You're on your back now My fangs deep in your jugular Scarlet oozing from your pretty throat The marijuana must have seeped into your bloodstream I'm high from the little I've drunk My mind screams for more Your hips have found a rhythm They rock up into the thigh firm between yours As I feed There's a mantra of my name leaving your mouth Your rhythm is faltering Your body seizes A high pitched scream is torn from your throat As I lick the punctures on the side of your neck Your body goes limp Our eyes meet and hold a silent conversation Your pleasure is mine My pleasure is yours A gentle hand cradles my cheek Thumb softly wiping the red off my lips I'm a messy feeder after all Our lips hold a final slow dance Both spent and sated Like a bride I carry you in my arms and into our coffin It is almost dawn
Nathaniel Remon, 21-year-old based in Kenya is a creative soul with a passion for poetry, art and crafting. They channel their artistic vision into grunge-inspired jewelry design through their brand Grunge Relics, while also exploring watercolor painting and scrapbooking. Strength training, meaningful friendships and their beloved cat, Lixie, bring balance to their life. Dedicated to peace of mind, Nate thrives on expressing themselves through their art and poetry.
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