At Dartmouth College I became spiritual.
A few acquaintances called it cynical.
Rejuvenated,
becoming a vampire.
Breathing a new life into me
she seduced and bit my neck.
My mentor and muse.
Fata Morgana.
I just didn't fit in...
into a fraternity,
of Greek campus organizations.
I was called eccentric.
But true light comes after sunset.
Wearing tinted shades.
My creamy skin,
resembling alabaster
of pale marshmallows.
Deceased some said,
but I knew better.
I was mister in-between.
Although by parentage I am Greek.
Adagio Alpheus Sabadicus part three.
Writer.
Philosopher.
Psychologist,
and bookshop entrepreneur,
I became.
Masturbating through each semester.
Upon transcending.
Referring to it as poetic ebony...
ebony after sundown,
in dark spaces of one's soul.
Resting in my sarcophagus
and mausoleum.
Scribing words of prose.
I graduated.
Rising to prominence,
within my kin.
Like Pop and Granddad,
and others of the coven.
Being fortunate,
and due to circumstance
by blood.
Biting on occasions.
Fornicating.
Bisexually compounded,
resenting labels.
I'm 100 proof,
and suck on my knees.
Eating pussy twelve months
of the year.
Taking up scribing
for two local magazines.
The Vampire Journal
and Mausoleum Screaming.
I became a celebrity
in only a fortnight.
Engaging in foreplay,
fellatio and down home fucking.
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