A taste of blood

I breathe in the fragrance of the flower,

Soft lips of the pedals nipping as I sip

From hidden thrones that draw blood,

My lips bleeding so I taste salt

And not the sweet nectar I seek,

Leaving drips of red at the flower’s core,

Always going back for more

Even though I bleed gain each time

The soft kiss and its bliss

Mingling with the hiss of pain

Through clenched teeth,

We cannot have one without the other,

The soft pedals without the thorns,

The nectar without the blood,

While deep down I always

Crave for me, bleeding on the inside,

Needing this same kiss to cure me

When it always causes more pain,

Needing to cure it all with something blunt

And more decisive, a delving into

Another universe, beyond the pedals

The thrones and even the nectar,

A relief found only when I have pushed myself

Up and down and around, and through,

Feeling the flower from inside and out,

Tasting it with more than just the tip of tongue

And bleeding from more than just my lips,

Feeling the build up of a storm inside

I know must explode inside you,

This taste of blood, this smell of flower

A mere tease to what I really need and want

And both of us knowing I can’t have it

Until I let the flower consume me