A sonnet of what I think love is.
(Manila, 21 March 2018)

Sonnet: Shakespearean
Genre: Fantasy, Romance

Thesis: Love is mythical and unrealistic.
Antithesis: Love is substantial.

The incubus was last seen in my dreams,
preying on vulnerable desire.
He had been the most beautiful of fiends.
We had danced in the flame of hell’s fire.
He told me he had risen from the dead,
only to fly on wings against the night.
I’d seen horns gracing the top of his head
and watched him leave through the window in flight.
I remember his vampirical lust:
the way he drew blood from my pulsing neck,
and ripped the heart from my beating bust,
and forced himself in with his throbbing sex.
Daylight, and the window was left open.
Beams of light shine on the blood unspoken.