Drought

Storm clouds stalk her, relentless as her shadow
As she sits silent next to the vampire's bed.
Strangers throw darkness across her shoulders
As dry air seeps in through the holes in her head.

Blank eyes implore but explanations desert her,
Chased away by mem'ry and disbelief.
Cumulonimbus roil and gather;
The wind moves the sand beneath her feet.

She sways in her seat—a small drop of truth;
One vulture hones in on her weakness;
It circles once and shrieks its amends
Then floats out the door of her cognizance.

Alone now with her flickering shadow
And the one who filled her clouds with pain,
She curls herself over his still, arid body
And soaks his pale skin in her rain.