The Desire

I'm writing this in my lover's blood.
Blood pumped by an unsuspecting heart.
Made bright red by defective life-sustaining oxygen.
Blood spilt by my fallacious hands.
From an unloving lover.

I run my hands over my cheeks and neck,
my breast and legs.
Leaving lines of red intertwined with eachother,
like liquid ribbons attached to my body,
by fingers of an unseen force.

Now his blood is beginning to clot.
Filling his wounds and condensing. I bend.
It's metallic taste fills my senses.
The warm drops trickle over my lips.
Dropping back into the endless sea of red.

I am in ecstacy.
A happiness I have never known.
I'm filled with an excitement that no one has felt.
A yearning no one has ever stirred.
I AM quietus.