Love Upon A Canvass Pale

The door opens with a soft slow sigh, reluctantly surrendering the room to my view. Candles by the score loosely arranged in scattered lots fill the room, parting only slightly to allow a vague serpentine path winding across the floor. Burning dimly the flames flicker in the breeze. An open doorway upon the far end of the room is sheathed by long sheer curtains that dance in the moonlight. Pale, blue-white light splashes through the doorway bathing one side of the room in a soft milky glow, while clashing desperately with the candle light. The ensuing shadows are tossed about the room wickedly in a vulgar demonic dance.

Lurking in the dark shadowed corner farthest from the door, as if fearing the intruding presence of both moon and candle light stands a large wooden four-poster bed. It's thick, rounded bed-posts reach high into the darkness, allowing the canopy to fall lazily to the floor. The vague silhouettes of a dozen or more pillows haplessly strewn about the bed are just visible through the dark fabric.

Her pale skin gleams in the moonlight, casting a haze about her. She leans against the bedpost purposefully, perfectly still as if taking in some unearthly power from this preternatural setting. She wears a floor length white dress, cropped just above her breasts and off her shoulders. Her long, straight black hair hangs about her face, framing the perfect symmetry of her soft cheeks and chin, falling carefully down her shoulders and back. Her bold yet soft gaze reaches across the expanse of the room as her right index finger playfully caresses her lower lip. A slow trickle of red drips down her neck and gathers between her breasts, the stain like a rose against a field of white lace.

With the slightest hint of a giggle, she beckons me with her hand. I move towards her without hesitation or care ~ completely at ease. The petite, softly tapering fang cuts through her smile. It soothes me and I desire her that much more. I reach out to her, the moonlight dances off of her eyes, and my soul is lost. After a moment, oddly sudden yet seemingly eternal, she is in my arms ~ I in hers. My hand caresses the back of her neck, her fingers tracing my cheek and lips. My soul is found but strangely different now.

Looking down, I trace the slow trail of blood with my finger, from her neck to her breast ~ from her breast to the wet rose-red stain on her dress. She takes a deep breath and softly sighs.

I sense the sharp fangs within my own mouth. I feel a stir of echoes ~ the memories of a hundred lifetimes I have lived...of pain and emptiness, of loneliness and grief. And instantly they are gone! Washed away forever as she leans into me. Her lips find my neck, her teeth penetrate my own pale skin, and the flood of drunken ecstasy washes over me anew. A soft, low moan escapes me as I look up and over my shoulder, past the flowing curtains and into the night-blue sky.

She turns my face down towards hers again with her finger. In a single moment I both grimace in pain and moan in delight as my fingers find the spot on my neck that her bloody lips so recently graced. She notices the smile crawling across my face;

"Don't worry darling... I'll give you more. You are the canvas for some of my best work".

The curtains leap with excitement as a gust sweeps through the room, the candle flames wink out with silent resignation, the room blurs into darkness and the dream is over.... but not the fantasy.