They were traveling in full moonlight when they encountered a phantom, a vampire that changed into this and that and yet was nonexistent.
The bed will tell you what’s hiding underneath.
I can hear their generalities again
the lie of their arms and legs
don’t fall for me, they cry
look, look at our false movements.
If you experience lust it is the work of phantom, phasma.
The curve that is not the road bewitching you
down the hillside. Up the hill.
All the ways away from home
that crowd around the door
if you experience lust you are almost home.
Through the bodies of demons I could even
touch your hand.
The thing about phasma is you have to fuck your way through
himself rebuked the vampire and told the others to do the same, since that was the way to counter this attack.
The vampire went off gibbering like a ghost.
Dragged back.
Gravity is a wave too, like light
strange solids we can never quite grasp
never follow either.
waves cresting on your mother’s shore
just loud enough to wake
too quiet to remember.
All phantoms are vampires. Rushing towards you with your own blood. Daring you to dream, wake your birds into the shapeshifting sun.
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