Why do we long for Dracula’s fangs
To kiss our necks and draw our blood
With phallic sharpness and pierce our pains?

Why do we yearn for Cupid’s dart
To fly toward us and caress our chest
With love-dripped pangs and puncture our hearts?

Why does God’s angel from above
Penetrate St. Theresa’s bosom with ecstatic reverie
To satisfy the soul with his love?

Why does Venus’ sovereign throne
Rest at the climax of consummation, carving
two bodies two minds into one sweet moan?

If you don’t want to hurt me
If you want to end this once-loving accord
Suffocate my smile with harsh verity
and poison me with sour words.
Don’t stab me in the back with another’s jagged knife;
That will only make me yours for life.