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A Night at the Circus

A Night at the Circus

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Published by EvangelineCoffin
A ringmaster laments that he cannot win any lovers given his vampirism. One of his lovers loves the trapeze artist more than him and he turns murderous...
A ringmaster laments that he cannot win any lovers given his vampirism. One of his lovers loves the trapeze artist more than him and he turns murderous...

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Published by: EvangelineCoffin on Jun 16, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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07/02/2011

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The curtain went upRed velvet with gold hold-backs;He tilted his black silk top hatClenched the brim with his pale handsWith the fingerless gloves.There was a woman in the crowd, watching him--So beautiful to him, she was.With her cold, dead stareAnd her jet-black curly hair.When he finished up his act,He watched her so carefully.There were so many others in the crowd,But this one, this one stood out.She offered a tentative smile across her pale-pink lips,But her eyes were else-where:On the acrobat.Backstage he vowed to win her over,As he mussed his fine, blonde hair;His crimson suit with the black lapel,He adjusted the black silk hankyWhich he knew so well.He had a white cravat around his neck And his green eyes glistenedLike beer-glass in the light.Too bad his heart no longer beat,Or else he would have stood a longer chance.Her performed the show every night,Half-hoping she would notice how his eyes Never left her, but she focused on the acrobatStill and never knew otherwise.He regretted that the acrobat knew life and love,But he vowed not to give up until he hadKnown true rejection.In the opera-house, he kept in the box he had rented out for himself,Wondering if she would be in the audience.She was not there, he left at intermission and went out toAppease his lust.It grieved him, he was loath to admit,That she was like a drug whom his heartCould not quit.He pursued her after a show, clutching at his
 
Top hat as he begged her not to go.She gave him a single glance,But when he held out his hand,She consented and agreed to dance.They twirled on that night and on many thereafter But he worried on and on, until it consumed him.As he wrapped his arms around her,Her heart beat so fiercely against hisUnmoving, cold breast and his lust,Caged within him, lurked like a birdTrapped in a cage yearning for release.He felt his teeth lengthen in his mouth,His fangs go against his gums,So he cast her away from himAnd from the room,He made to run.She watched as he fled before she wanderedAway into the cemetery from out of theHaunted, old house; she perused the tomb-Stones and danced through the path of the moonlight.She went to pass by the mausoleum andGo her merry way,But when she saw him there crouching in the shadow,She couldn’t look away.He had a body there, clenched tight in his grip,With blood running down their neck From where his mouth fit.She didn’t scream or flail, but she ranLike the wind, and didn’t stop until she arrived back At the old house, to warn the circus he worked with.They already knew, they told her,And only the acrobat was shocked;But to make matters worse,He knew he had been caught.He kicked down the door and gave her his ruddy gaze,Begging her to forgive him,To overlook his evil ways.She refused him and ran, not planning to come back--But night after night she returned, to see the acrobatWhom her eyes could not leave.His eyes, deep black ones, always met hers so nice,And when he met her after each show,
 
He held her so tight.He whispered sweet nothings into her earsAs they danced in the moonlight andKissed at her cheek;Meanwhile the dead manWith rage couldn’t speak.At last he vowed revenge if he could get nothing more,And rigged the acrobat’s trapeze so thatHe might die in the fall.That night the show was the best of them all,And when the trapeze man went out,Only he knew what would befall.He smirked to himself as he watched it all unfold,And thought maybe she might relent and accept himBefore she grew old.But when the trapeze man fell with the horror clearly on his face,He saw only sadness and despair in her eyes--His cruelty was his vice.She rushed up over the stage--where he thought she mightEmbrace him--but she cradled the trapeze man’sBlack-curled head and wept over him, instead.She didn’t accuse him of the crime,But he withdrew from the light,Knowing that his actions were hasty and wrong--That he should have know not to fight.He withdrew into his coffin with the red-velvet interior,Where no one could hear his tears,Save for his lonely spirit there.It was the same for years afterwards;He wondered if he would ever find love--But none could ever look at himKindly enough.He found his rage and anger were hard to conceal,And that his sadness reigned, and waned his weal.Attending the opera alone became a past-time for him,As he wondered what opera singers’ throats wouldTaste like for him,If only they would open wide their pale skin--And cast the pearls aside.He sipped at his pale, green absintheWatching them and feeling the redRose petals on the ivory and onyx keys;

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