vampirism

under no illusion

that we are more

than an illusion,

our shadows under

the streetlights were

stirred and not shaken

incandescent pharmacies

shining down their chemical

cocktails, imbibed through

photosynthesis gone wrong.

tonight feels like a dance

choreographed by vampires;

a sort of ataxia coaxing us

to stick our necks out.

teething off the fear,

no one tries to get sober;

the future tasted like

we might never drink each other

again in the daytime.