Swollen Rondine
My lip’s swollen, bruised, and bleeding.
Someone’s nightmare to me? A dream.
The virus now floods my bloodstream,
with every touch his need’s dancing.
Fierce could sting a bit, I’m willing
to part ways with a lustful scream.
My lips’s swollen,
and the Moon has begun waxing.
I’m okay with this perverse scheme,
trading sunlight for a moonbeam.
This kiss from a vampire’s spreading,
my lip’s swollen.
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