One In A Vermillion Poem by Axley Jade Blaze

What chances of such an occurrence; a story—?
One of love, or is it?
While I question its level of authenticity or my own peculiar hallucinations,
My neck is shining in the dark
The slight twist of it against the moonlight
My hair held loosely above my head
Messy, by both hands and spilling out in curly cues
Through my finger loops
The neck, the spot, the shine
A more virginal opening.
With those golden fangs ready to penetrate it;
Sink in, firm and hard
Greater intensity than a stab between the legs
More deadly!
While I question fantasy against its arch-nemesis—reality
He licks those lips, so thirsty
And, I am whispering, 'what are the chances? '
While I chant it, sing-songy and obsessive, like a melody, one can't forget,
He locates the opening; he takes what is his.


© copyright 2018-2021 One In A VerMillion (Pt.5 of Blood Money) Nicole D'Settemi