Long dark hair. Slim. Dark clothes.

Cigarette. Jeweled stud in her nose.

Devil may care. Proud, sharp pose.


Laughing. Some guy chatting her up.

She’s amused, but not eating it all up.

Sighs, weary, behind her red Solo cup.


I watch. She edges toward her scooter

on the street, done with this dull suitor.

She is neither queen, or damsel, or tutor.


I watch. She leaves. Dark hair, banner flows.

I wish I was with her. Go where she goes.

But I am just another vampire, heaven knows.


Silly headed, I walk back to my apartment alone.

The party faded away, a dull roar, love’s killing stone.


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