Night Lover~ by Louise Hastings

To drink his blood;
vampiric lust, life essence lost.
To see his eye colour change my colour;
dusk darkened, vitality sucked.

So pale his cheek, paper cool his touch.
His shadow deep
crueller than winter’s frost.

Blood of the living feeds my lover –

my sadistic brother,

my him and me.

©Louise Hastings 2011


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Someone told me that I should write it all down, get all that turmoil out of my head. And it worked, even better than therapy did. In the process, I discovered a joy with wordplay and poetry, and now I couldn’t stop even if I’d wanted to.


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