Today's poem is by Michelle Bitting

The Feeding

It was about love. It was about survival.
Stumbling into her room when
she mewed in the shrunken hours
of the night, her mouth's soft ring
a hungry animal, searching, lips wide
for the cinnamon moons, doors
to hidden springs of sweet, pale sap
pulsing inside me. Oh, I was a cheap lover—
open 24 hours, ready to meet her thirst
at a moment's call, even as the first thin
fingers of dawn slid through leaky blinds,
gray light, a vampire hovering,
the trail of cream from her cheek
trickling down when she was full
and I could sleep—
I could sleep like a dead woman.

Copyright © 2008 Michelle Bitting All rights reserved
from Good Friday Kiss
C & R Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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