Storm Lord
  by Cliff Roberts

LaCroix,
was it you
writhing with Nicholas amongst the clouds
that made them fill with passion?

Lucius, were the cracks of thunder 
your slamming groin against his 
     quivering buttocks?

Was the wild winds your moans 
and Nick's sweet cries of ecstasy?

Father, 
did you fill your son up with your lightning,
striking his inner core?

Pale master
did you cleanse your vampiric soul?

And did you, then, 
both settle 
into the afterglow
of a low-laying fog bank?

Was it you, LaCroix?

September '99