My Tasting Bed
Woke up in my bed with blood on my lips.
It was salty and gamey, and I craved more.
The man next to me had weird eyes.
They were staring at the ceiling;
I did not realize it was because he had died.
I was not tempted to taste him; vampires need fresh.
I hopped out of bed and looked out into the alley.
There was a girl there smoking; I hate nicotine.
Ugly habit; non-tasty. I liked fresh and untainted.
A small child would be welcome, but they are in bed.
Something small enters the alley; a cat.
I shake my head, disappointed.
Go back to sleep someone said.
It was the inn keeper, she had entered the room.
Your wailing is worrying the other tenants.
I crooked my finger, luring her to my tasting bed.
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