Fang Girling | Poems by Azia Archer

God made the child she

advanced with outstretched arms

said—

come to me and we can rest

together

—

forgive the bitter

asylum of america

a tomb of the undead

desperate for power

—

nothing but a key in the

churchyard within me,

a vampire wound

not healed

—

I know I could be precious—

good, settled into the

light.

not disturbed.

ablaze with sunshine

and delight. but I love

darkness too much.

—

lips red and nasty, disturbed

speaking down

to God, staring

at nothing

rude and ill

and empty

—

Source text: Stoker, Bram. Dracula. London: Constable & Co., 1897. Print. Pg 148

I

see

no

light

in

life

—

the mother— a wild

flower and a wolf

circling the moon, howling

the voice of the body

remembered

—

Source text: Stoker, Bram. Dracula. London: Constable & Co., 1897. Print. Pg 123

attached to an

evil root of spiritual

pathology, fighting

the heart’s blood—

an anxious agony

with the lover.

—

smoky beauty of sunset breathing

recuperative power over his

mind, his passions, his

paroxysms— certain natures

improved,

naturally terrible.

—

Source text: Stoker, Bram. Dracula. London: Constable & Co., 1897. Print. Pg 101

nonsense sends love spells

perpetually murmuring

padded room wishes to fools

disassociated into a sort of

coma.

—

men fear hell—

let them. raised to signal

some terrible doom, his

stronger nature seems to work

inwardly against himself.

men are beyond help.

god seems to have deserted

them.

—

you— tall, uncommon

handsome, clever

and an immense lunatic

what power you have

I am undressing

I am writing this to you

—

sweet ripple

joined subtle change

I seized wild desire

the dark passage to

my very soul—

burning

whole

—

Source text: Stoker, Bram. Dracula. London: Constable & Co., 1897. Print. Pg 43

bitterness shall take no refusal—

engaged to resistless discourse

that the door had

closed in every way.

—

amongst the bright

sparkling waters, the walls

of my castle— broken, saturine

left me marked

but fortified. they say the people

who are near death change

the atmosphere. believe it.

—

the wolves around us howling

through jagged white teeth, a

peculiar perforce to command

the darkness

came upon me.

—

weird and ghost-like

speaking wild cries of

encouragement to passengers—

a guard against the evil eye.

—