The Succubus I Date
You’re the succubus at the edge of my bed
that use to call at night. I was nearly dead.
You would climb on top of my creased corpse
and claim my soul through the fleshy pours
still letting off the last remaining heat of life.
You laid your naked body on mine in spite
of the fact that you had already taken
all the religion I had left for praying.
And now, in my last blurry waken days,
you still perch yourself like a bird of prey
over my bed post and laugh at the ghosts
of my past. You have some reason to boast.
You crept up while I was half asleep
and covered me with the purple sheet.
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