October Honey:

As the chill begins to nip at my fingers and toes. The leaves wither out into dying yellows and burgundy’s. My own vibrant hues return. The ball and chain of life comes undone as the signals of autumn begin to manifest her between my thoughts.

Slow – like the beginning strokes on a new canvas. Thin colors upon a white void until her face emerges from the pieces put together.

Memories flood into me.

The world squeezes into itself as I feel the graze of her nails on my chest. The cold singe of her tongue. Delicate whimpers. Laced fingers. Taught angles. Feverish passion.

All fleeting and haunting. Our feelings return like a family back from a fresh vacation hurriedly rushing inside of me to relish the relief of their home. 

They reside well.

I began to see her more as the night beckoned closer. A red shadow off in the distance. A figure in the corner of my room. Gone before I could visualize her in her entirety.

O’ her voice is pastel. Mutterings of my own name wake me from a thick lull every night. My eating is scarce – water an afterthought.

She occurs.

The clouds engulfed the stars as her crimson essence shrouded over me. We mingled together like twisted vines. I grasped onto stone cold skin. Blackened nails sliced into my shoulders. Gleaming fangs found their mark on the tender meat of my neck. Blood flows - not all of me, but just enough.

My body was air the next morning, and her presence vanished with the shadows the sunrise expunged. She drip feeds me her visage like sap falling slowly from a branch in the trees. Watch as I stand below, yearning for it to finally drop; O’ my October Honey. 

I’ll stay.