Alan Catlin

Vampire’s Kiss

All the color was
being leached out
of her skin in some
Unnatural way,
not the Michael
Jackson way but by
black magic rites
she once took part
in as a youth pre-
paring needles for
mojo mamas to
use on fetish dolls,
likenesses of enemies
real and imagined,
while her male
siblings played
dice for souls
of marked men,
the soon-to-be
totally bereaved,
drinking joy juice
made from pure
cane, the hearts
of rare plants,
domestic animals
& special herbs
slow cooked the old
fashioned way &
allowed to ferment
in dark caves, root
cellars on the out
skirts of villages
of the damned she
held a visa for
stamped in blood,
no one questioned
her proof of passage,
it was clear where
she was coming from
no one would want to go

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