Nosferatu Triptych

following F.W. Murnau / Werner Herzog / Robert Eggers

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1. I have crossed oceans of time to find you. —Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992

There is soil in my chest, but I cannot sleep. 
My love awaits across the sea,

& I do not know how to live without her. 
By dawn, I will be shipbound,

plague rats everywhere, & some unholy
stench emanating from all of these

dirt-choked coffins. She intoxicates me,
wafting on briny wind into my restless mind.

My love, I can hear you calling to me.
My love, I will arrive to you soon.

All of the world could not keep me,
they will flee or fall at the feet

of our union. When the sun arrives
I will retire. Wait for me,

2. Soon I will be no more a shadow to you. Your spirit was never enough. —Nosferatu, 2024

wait for me.
Do you not also hunger?

Even the sea has tried to devour me. 
The plague ship of my body drifts

through the murk, water bloodied
with oil & shit. Know that I am near
when the rats run wild into the streets,

ten-thousand sick bringers erupting 
from the decaying wreck my bones have become.
If indeed I do not make landfall,

come find me in the sea.
Do not tarry—I am growing impatient
of your absence. Come, drink deeply of myself 

& be at peace that we will soon be one.
There will not be enough pine boxes
to contain the wake of our lust. 

There will not be enough pine boxes
to contain the pieces that are left of you:
Pray to me. Accept your eternity. I demand your devotion. 


3. I am an appetite. Nothing more. —Nosferatu, 2024

& when I have allowed you to kiss my heart out of its wound,
when you have drained that which you claimed in my waking death,
I will hold you closer than the night. Look not to the window,
it does not matter that the sun climbs over the horizon: I am praying
to you. I am dying beneath you. Your shadow is stained against 
my tongue, blackened in my own blood. Drink deeply of myself,
come to me & stay until only ash remains. I am consenting
all of my life away so that you can never return—I want to die
beneath your tongue so that I do not have to live beneath
your shade. I am praying to you: please, be gentle. I am sorry,
I do not mean to say that you are not always gentle. Please, do not
be violent. I will sup on every ichor you offer,
I am re-pledging myself to you, of my own will. Will you forgive
me? Do not mistake this for pleading forgiveness. 
Look not to the window, it does not matter that the sun climbs 
over the horizon: I am praying to you. I am dying beneath you.
Let me hold you, hold you to my fading breath.
In death, I believe that I will at last be able to dream.