Wednesday, February 15, 2017

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

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