Disclaimer: I own this poem, and it comes entirely from my imagination. If this poem sounds like any other, it is purely coincidental.

Authors Note: I submit this poem for you to read. Please note that this poem is rated at M and you should decide whether to read it accordingly. For the people who read it please review when you’re finished.

AN: I actually do like this one.

Don’t Call Me

A small liberty against daylight

Darkness in dreams lies beyond

Sensuous curve of normal thought

Whispers softly into the night

Soft breathing and small motions

A chest rising and falling again

In the tender hushed darkness

Slumbering, so ironically innocent

Eyes that were lit with joy

And sparkled with such passion

Are filled now with a passion

Of an altogether different kind

With this hand I shall

Bring you to me

And with the other

I shall hold the knife

Loving lips kiss the blade despite

The knowledge that they kissed

Your own lips a few hours ago

The metal is cold and sweet

The hands that held you so firmly

Are gripped harder and tighter

A different lover, one who gives

Yet takes nothing but blood

Your blood. The sharp edges

Cry for it, screaming for me

To quench their thirst and mine

A long loving deliberate slice

Our night is finished

Thanks very much,

And yes, I enjoyed it.

Oh, and don’t call me,

I’ll call you.

May blessings follow in your footsteps,

Ethereal Kisses