My Love
Your red
And the colour
Of blood
Are so familiar
Blood fascinates
Like the red hue of the rose
It reminds me of revolutions
The necks of Mary and Louis
And their touch-the-shoulder hairs
Matted with the red blood;
Revolutions shed blood
And feed the roses with hunger
Satisfied they fade away
In a forsaken vase
Their heads down
Eyes downcast
Uprooted they challenge
The change from their earth
To an unfamiliar hearth and learn
To burn the eyes and die
Waiting with red roses
Are thorns thinking?
Through petals and leaves,
Or have they got
Shocking familiarity
With the blood?
They prick the cells
Pierce the hell out of
A heaven of blood and bliss.
