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I Am—The Lonely Vampire (I love…Eternally.)
November 1, 2026
I Am— The Lonely Vampire (I love… Eternally.)
A lonely vampire's love letter, in which the thirst for blood turns out to be a thirst for company.
Plahm borrows the oldest costume in gothic fiction and wears it both for laughs and for keeps. The speaker is a vampire in full kit, cape, crypt and claret, yet his appetite runs to perfume and “the soft cloud of you” long before it reaches blood, and the hunger underneath is loneliness: “My loneliness, / an abyss— / a terrifying inferno.” The diction is overripe on purpose. Claret, absinthe, crimson and scarlet pile up stanza by stanza until the excess becomes the joke, and the poem knows it, swerving into “A.K.A. Draculina!” with an exclamation mark no Victorian vampire would allow. One word gives the game away. When the speaker craves “your nectar’s sweet embrace,” he is using the bee’s word, the one this site signs off with, and the bloodsucker turns out to be a honeybee in a cape. Set beside Today, Life Is Different (12 April 2026), where the speaker’s veins run “blue / from toes / to fingers too / with memory / of you,” the vein that “pulses crimson—almost alive—” reads as the same body turned up to Halloween volume. The card’s back panel adds a coda in which the vampire unfurls his cape and tastes absinthe on “my adored prey,” and its last two words, “I need— / reciprocity,” land the poem where Plahm’s love poems usually end: on asking to be loved back.
The costume could have smothered the poem, and for a few stanzas it nearly does: “claret,” “crystalline,” “ethereal” and “elegance” arrive in such a pile that the voice thins out. Tone rescues it. “A.K.A. Draculina!” punctures the gothic hush at exactly the right moment, the nectar line ties the vampire back to the bee, and the short-lined coda earns its last word, “reciprocity,” a clinical term doing the work of a plea. That turn, from appetite to the wish to be wanted in return, is what lifts it to an 8. As a card it delivers on first reading. As a poem it rewards a second, once the reader hears the comedy under the cape.
I Am—
The Lonely Vampire
(I love…
Eternally.)
I yearn to drink
your essence of claret,
to drown
in your perfume’s
forbidden tide.
I can only dream
of being wrapped
in the soft cloud of you—
to feel the vapor
of your crystalline dream.
My thirst is primordial.
Historic.
For ages and ages
I have wandered,
till your shadow arrived.
I crave to sip—
so slowly…
your nectar’s sweet embrace;
to gaze upon the elegance
of your ethereal presence.
My vein of desperate love
pulses crimson—almost alive—
sighs of longing rise
from my crypt,
where silence savors sorrow.
My loneliness,
an abyss—
a terrifying inferno.
I ache for my newfound Gustavién—
her silken touch
searing my skin,
her silent steps,
a whispered promise—
to ignite the spark
the scarlet throb within.
A.K.A. Draculina!
Cursed forever
by this despair and desire—
for your eternal grace.
Your Love’s undying bite,
enchantingly tasting
Mine—
a kiss
of blood’s eternity.
• • •
As I unfurl my cape
in the moonless, midnight wind—
my senses afire on another…
succulent
victim,
my hunger
for love unfulfilled.
I can taste
the absinthe—
limpid, bittersweet and intoxicating,
swirling in the flesh
of my adored prey,
a fertile feast
laced with longing scent,
trying to fulfill my insatiable need.
Lust, love, and blood.
I need—
reciprocity.
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“I Am the Lonely Vampire”
“I Am—The Lonely Vampire” Valentine card is available on our Shop page.
VISIT THE HONEYBEE BARD SHOP
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