death of a lady

“just one more drink,” she said
and I couldn’t resist that smile
her teeth hidden behind a twisted crimson curtain,
they were sharp like her stare,
like the black fingernails raking up fishnet
and slowly
she swept her bloody tongue
over those pointy little teeth

she smiled as I looked for answers
in the sky
Orion had already turned away
in his own uncertainty
and the seven sisters
in their own fervent debate
merely questioned back

“this one,” she said
I tore my gaze from the stars
in time to see her murmuring
into his ear
her hands all over his
mortal flesh

I trailed behind them
as they dipped into the alley
those sharp little teeth
clamped onto his neck
over and over
she tore
and drank him dry

pale and still in awe, he fell
a corpse to the wet pavement
and she smeared red
down her face,
her chest
and smiled

but her green eyes flew open
wide, darting
she inhaled

“what is this pain?” she asked
and her voice and her hands were
shaking
as the blood bubbled back up
now black

she had not cried in centuries
but she wept the only liquid she had:
his diseased blood, blacker than ink
thicker than cold tar
it came in waves
pouring from her eyes
her mouth

and I watched her die
crumpled in a sticky puddle,
she writhed
for an eternity

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