Gregory Richard Barden | + Follow Poet |
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Last Rose For a Rebel - Part 2

(continued)

She wanted me to re-marry, you see, but I never did.
Oh, I had a few trysts, here-and-there,
just to remind myself the plumbing still worked,
but all it REALLY did was remind me
how much more incredible making love was with HER,

and how inadequate other women were in every other way.
Every-so-often, over the years,
I would be out with someone,
at a restaurant or night club or theater,
and I would FEEL her, or get a waft of her scent,

or sense her eyes watching me,
but when I'd turn, she wouldn't be there.
I wrote it off as my imagination,
or some misguided hopes ...
but now, thinking back, I'm sure it was her ...

checking up on her "Johnny Reb",
her lost soldier ... her One and True.
Something ELSE that I started to notice after she left,
there were OTHERS ...
others like her, and quite a few, from what I could tell.

I almost spoke to one of them once,
a young girl from up north, by the way she dressed.
I had seen her one evening on Chartres Street during a Mardi Gras parade,
and a couple of days later I was headed
to the French Market on Decatur and St Philip,

and she walked by and brushed my arm,
and I felt it - that TINGLE ...
Oh, not very strong at all, but very distinct.
I almost turned and ran after her,
until I realized how utterly absurd that would be ...

I mean, what would I say??
And what purpose would it serve?!?
There was only one that I truly loved,
and nothing could replace her,
not even another of her kind.

That was so long ago now, and I'd had no such thoughts for ages ...
until she walked into this room ...
to say goodbye ...
and my tears flowed at the sight of her.
I could barely move now, except for my head and neck,

so she took off one of her pink satin gloves and blotted the moist from my face,
then bent and softly kissed my eyes, then my lips ...
oh, the rapture of sensations that overwhelmed me!
After all this time - stronger than ever ...
and though I still felt pain it was lost in the ecstasy of just being with her,

seeing her smile, looking in those sea-deep eyes,
touching the chili pepper lips with mine,
and the blissful intoxication of aromas!!
Oh, please let me go NOW - like this!
With this final, heavenly taste in my mouth,

and this sublime elation and passion!
I never dreamed I would feel such again!
And the pain, ebbing, ebbing, ebbing ...
then I realized, slowly ... 
THIS is why she came ...

not to say goodbye or make amends,
not to have the final discussion we should have had long ago,
not to utter truths or dire deeds,
not for apologies,
not for "where-have-you-been"s,

or purging regrets,
or even salvation ...
for ME ... for MY pain.
She had risked being seen by old friends
and being revealed as not having aged for fifty years,

and possibly even outing all of her kind,
just to walk me home in peace and joy ...
to ease the pain and suffering of an old fool she loved beyond any other,
to assuage the fears and loneliness of the dying man she adored,
to use the supernatural abilities and centuries-old expertise of her kind,

to softly deliver the soul of the only one she ever really cared about.
How many endless eons had she lived through?
How many wars witnessed? How many unspeakable horrors seen?
How many empty relationships for the sake of survival?
All those secrets risked for the last moments of a weary old soldier.

oh, how my heart leapt with the revelation!! How my spirit sang and soared,
tears tracing my cheeks and gently dripping to her hand ...
I slowly opened my heavy lids, now without any pain,
and lost myself, one last time, in the inky black depths of her eyes ...
she squeezed my hand as red tears ran down her alabaster face,

the ONLY tears I had ever seen her shed ...
and as the veil slowly lowered, and my life ebbed away,
she touched her lips tenderly to my ear and whispered,
"forever only, my Johnny Reb", and with my last breath I lovingly replied,
"forever only, my Dearest, Precious, Most Lovely ...

"vampire"






* This was inspired by the writings of Dean Wesley Smith, and posted in his honor. *

Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2017

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Darren White Date: 7/22/2017 10:45:00 AM That end, I didn't see coming :) This Greg, is more a narrative, prose, a short story than anything else. Not that I mind. It's captivating and exhilerating. Great storytelling my dear friend! I only comment on this one, because they belong together, one story. I love vampire stories. At first I thought it was a woman feeding men with milk (as also happened some times in history) :) Login to Reply Gregory Richard Barden Date: 7/23/2017 8:02:00 AM That's why I love ambiguity - the little surprises we can weave in-and-out! Really pleased you enjoyed this, Dear Friend - not getting many comments ... I'm guessing vampire stories aren't real popular here. ;-) Darren White Date: 7/22/2017 12:57:00 PM Yes, I know what you mean. By the way, I saw that. I understood :) But I like to see metaphors, read it wrongly, surprise myself by understanding it after all, but also love to be fooled for a while :) Gregory Richard Barden Date: 7/22/2017 11:05:00 AM Thanks, My Friend - I didn't do it as a short-story because no one ever reads them, (at least not mine - I even have a novella posted here!) ... and the line breaks worked well this way. Here's the section that gives it away, (though I WANT some of it to be a surprise, ultimately his telling her that he knows and always has, and loved her despite) ... Gregory Richard Barden Date: 7/22/2017 11:05:00 AM "It was still a shock for me to watch her feed, at first, (Though I knew inside it was coming), But she never harmed a soul ... She cast her spell and they slept while she drank, Then she'd pass her fingers over the bites in their neck, And they would close without a mark ... Five minutes later she was gone, And they would awaken ... A bit drowsy at first, and confused, But fine in body and spirit, And even a bit chipper, to be truthful."