POTN 11

POETRY  |  FICTION

Vampire Children

by Wendy Rathbone, art by Cathy Buburuz

They do not shiver in snow
They eat pepper and garlic
with radishes and mint.
They move within your eyes
like peripheral ghosts
almost cloudy, almost not there.
They do not get colds.
They cannot find clothes that fit.
Their voices are scratched gold
and autumn rust.
The moon leaves traces of lavender
upon their skin and hair.
They dance with the goat-footed shadows.
Pluto is their king.