Parisienne Night

MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - Parisienne Dream Quite suddenly you've fallen through the seams from very life, to stroll here by the Seine, dropped from reality into my dreams where you've loved me forever now and then. You taste the fragrance of Parisienne night and hear the distant singing all too clear, it's just a dying nymph, in her delight, one of the dead who knows her death is here. Be as it may, your love tries not to speak, as we enjoy the streetlamps' shadowings, I press you to the stone and kiss your cheek, and you can feel the sorrow midnight brings; you echo words that concertina's say only at night when love has lost her way. My searching leads to parting of your hair, as gentle hands reveal a neck too white, and you can feel the pain, it lingers where; I've set my teeth, and then you feel the bite, and there I nurse, your suckling tiny child, of blood and life, the nourishment I crave; that keeps me seeking you, but drives me wild; and makes me civilized, but mis-behave. In your surprise, your feigning now and then,, expecting sex; this is no mere foreplay; you go beyond the limits of the Seine, to yet another dream that will not stay. Your struggle to reality is brief, and you succomb into my time of grief. The draining of your love into my own is secondary to the love you take, you'll fall from here, back to the life you've known and that's the choice you have, it's yours to make; you'll waken in the night and you'll forget; safe in your bed, your pensione's gloom, but on your neck, the trace of blood and sweat leads you to feel each shadow of your room. Remembering the locking of our eyes, that made you cross the line into the dead, will make you cry, but never realize, that where you've been lies hidden in your head. One day, you'll meet a boy I cannot be, but making love to him, you're making love to me. © Ron Arbuthnot.