Rust Tinted Blood


scrubbed and scented she entered his chamber
told by the whispers of silken gown
his eyes were directed towards the fire
stroking his shoulder she sat herself down

drunken with passion and lust’s sharp flavour
the hidden warnings had passed her unseen
dusk’s grey menace precipitating
rust tinted blood on her scarlet sheen

savouring thoughts of wanton desire
she turned to her swain and looked in his face
expecting reflections of her in his eyes
and ready to welcome a naked embrace

suddenly terror replaced her longing
he caught her tightly as if in a mesh
fangs which glistened the colour of danger
plunged into her throat, tearing her flesh

in the moonlit gloom of that secret room
she lay bloodless and faded white
and through the next day, still she lay
’til the sun gave its space to the night

gently her bridegroom awoke her from slumber
to night eternal and many new ways
they romped and they fed, left their victims undead
and they hid from the sun’s melting rays

she hadn’t been looking for love everlasting
that fateful night when she proffered her treasure
but the knowledge that never again should she perish
filled her bloodless heart with soulless pleasure

© Jane Paterson Basil


13 thoughts on “Rust Tinted Blood

    1. I thought that there was something familiar about the mood it created. Poe? They don’t come any better than him.

      This is apropos of nothing, but I wrote ‘felate’ instead of ‘relate’ in response to a comment just now. I’d love to do a poem with clever errors which worked. I must make a list of suitable word pairs.

      Liked by 1 person

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