There was a love here once
or at least, something like it.
Pushed into the shape
of those three words,
moulded into an emotion
that spoke of something
more than cold fondness.
Love should not bleed
white, when sliced open.
My passion always burned
too fiercely, too hot and bright
for your pale grey perfection.
Your distant, gentlemanly affection
made no place for my need.
Now that love is truly here,
and sliced, that love
bleeds bright red
with fire and passion
and fills me
to completion.



2 thoughts on “Bloodless

  1. Oh your God! this is so well versed that I feel it in my spine, chillingly grotesque and lovely at the same time. wow

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