Lamia

 The night was hot and blind, the docks are unsafe, the harbor is haunted, the entire lake is cursed, inside and outside, one with a crown, the others with a giggling lust and penchant for crushing seashells beside the luxury homes and antique art gallery of the drowsy city, they mimic me and purr when I am there, nightmare hunters and servants in an eternal life of servitude, there's nothing but vampires here and they stick you for sport, rip your lungs out, blest be thy immortal paradise built only for our species. 

Playful fang marks in the slender necks, a murdered bald and fat man torn apart, a pack of wild dogs eating his testicles and inadequate parts, his stomach and intestines being feasted upon by a coal-black and unclean adolescent, the gaze of a horror-stricken thief, the euthanized fragility of lesser humans, grave-eyes and my fingers tracing names in the foggy window-breath of the cafΓ©, the filthy lakeside air is getting colder, an open morgue and wonder, go on and wonder, inside and outside, the disease.

A small mimic hisses and makes hand-gesture glasses on her pretty face, her Russian brown hair is matted with gore, she'll never do it as good as thine Duchess covered in thick gluts of red blood, smearing and lacquering delight in such bliss, playful and bare, breaking the shin-bone of a wayward youth, an already forgotten waif, the blood smells like scented perfume and ethereal flowers.