Last Night of Lovemaking

The cemetery is dark and cold
His breath freezes in the icy air
The scent of a freshly rested corpse flows throughout the night air
He walks steadily, and kneels before her tomb
He speaks, “My dear, I must make love to you one last time.”
He approaches the iron door of his lover's tomb, and forces it open
A black coffin rests in the corner, with silver trimmings
Dying red roses lie on the casket, they wither away, as did she
Moonlight shines through a barred window, illuminating the crypt
He rests a hand on her coffin, and with determined eyes, he opens it
There she lay...her lifeless body consumed by beauty
Her pale skin and crimson lips, her blackened eyes and rose cheeks
A perfect gothic beauty, now consumed by death
He leans down and kisses her sweet lips
Traces of her crimson from her lips are left on his
He climbs carefully into the coffin, and breathes hot breath onto her frigid skin
Alone once again, remote, silent, he whispers to her
“I love you, you know that” he says stroking her cheek
“This is what we agreed to...one last time, my beauty”
One departed, one living, both with nothing to cover them
And he fills her with his warmth
He makes slow strokes as he kisses her
Though her iciness is strange, it comforts him
He makes smooth penetrations throughout the night
Then finally, he releases himself into her
He lays there for minutes, resting, and whispering sweet last words to her
For from this moment on, he will never glance at her tomb
Just this one last night of lovemaking, and then he will be gone