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Dracula Vampira

by Amy MacLennan

She seems to be dead,
but the sleep will pass
if the climate is right:
thick, wet air works best
for an orchid. She waits
longer than most
to sprout and bud, her blooms
timed for drama.
Once blown, she almost shrieks.
Ivory green muted
against slash upon slash
of rusted purple
streaking her petals,
each one framing
a cream-tongued mouth.
She plays her graces
well. Long tails, striped
in burnt plum,
trail below each pout
to flirt in any breeze.
Above all else,
she knows her role.
She is a demon,
a strumpet,
a diva.

Amy MacLennan has been published or has work forthcoming in Hayden's Ferry Review, River Styx, Pearl, Linebreak, Cimarron Review, New Plains Review, Folio, and Rattle. Her poems are included in the anthologies Eating Her Wedding Dress: A Collection of Clothing Poems from Ragged Sky Press and Not a Muse: The Inner Lives of Women from Haven Books.