Promise of Man

He dismisses my skin, felled by the knife.

The simple foe an unwitting ally invading the warmth of me,

a tongue as sharp as his which invades the mouth of violence.

The intimacy’s a parasitic guest that he hosts in the crowded hall of his ribs.

His lungs sigh from the pressure.

His heart beats a frantic rhythm.

My Blood spills like water.

He makes good to break the dam of flesh,

and fulfill the promise of Death.

He savors the unforgiving Crimson holding the essence of me, of him,

everything we could be,

but nothing beyond our reach.

It is bold and undeniable in the sun. It winks back at the sky.