Reminiscing
I've stopped
taking human form
for some time now,
more at home this way,
being caressed by the dark.
I've feasted so much
the taste of blood
is a permanent resident
in my mouth,
tickling my taste buds,
draining
the last bits of humanity.
In a moment
of weakness
I fall to my knees
reliving my
luscious feedings,
taking my creations
to a surreal level,
I stopped counting
ages ago
but each one
still draws me closer,
each taste still
calls to me,
and forever
that beautiful taste
rests on my tongue,
driving me
to the next,
wanting
but never needing,
how can I need
with all the cattle out there?
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