73
Cristina Legarda
Sestina for a Vampire
T
Three coronary arteries supply blood to the heart, muscle of our emotion, servant of our fear. When we are small we learn to be afraid of the dark from shadows provoking that flow of blood forward, sending us running toward desired shelter, away from ghosts, from demon possession.
No one suspects an angel of possession, so when you arrived, I didn’t run. My heart quickened instead sensing invisible wings, desired nothing but time in your haloic glow, entirely free of fear and suspicion. Nothing sinister–no cape, no blood on your hands, no pallor, nothing dark anywhere around you except the deliciously dark thoughts in my head that suddenly took possession of me, black reflections flickering in your light eyes, hot blood arising in our secret parts, the heart of one against the other pounding, the rush of fear giving way to the joy of being desired. With unsurprising arrogance you were sure I desired that brush of lips across my neck, my dark tresses so easily caressed aside to expose, I fear, a hollow of flesh all too ready for possession. You saw my pulse there, a secret my heart couldn’t keep; just under the surface, the coursing blood drawing you in. Make no mistake: I will suck your blood too. I caught a glimpse of your fangs, of what you desired– no, hungered for, in the depths of your heart. In the secret chambers where your blood flowed, the dark thing you longed for was ultimate possession, not just body and blood, nor desire, nor fear, but love–you dared to want my love. Fear me too, prince of darkness, let not your blood rest easy, for my love is more powerful than possession; it will swallow us whole, bury us alive, desired ecstasy with no possibility of breath, a drowning in the dark, the madness of surrender, the ravished, battered heart.
S
My love, I no longer fear what I once desired because I see my blood pouring out, thick and dark, when at last I have the self-possession to drive a stake through your heart.
