The Succubus I Date

You’re the succubus at the edge of my bed that use to call at night. I was nearly dead. You would climb on top of my creased corpse and claim my soul through the fleshy pours still letting off the last remaining heat of life. You laid your naked body on mine in spite of the fact that you had already taken all the religion I had left for praying. And now, in my last blurry waken days, you still perch yourself like a bird of prey over my bed post and laugh at the ghosts of my past. You have some reason to boast. You crept up while I was half asleep and covered me with the purple sheet.