“I wish you were my blood”
A compliment of poison composed
Words meant well
Dipping to the well of wounds
Were my reds and whites, looking blue
Made of all the hues of you
I would not be true
Platelets pulled from another sea
Would not create the curve of hip
nor the quick wit
which I have been endowed with
My hair would be lightened
My senses perhaps heightened
but there would be no me nor I
A child you would have bore
but I would not have been in store
Take what is given
Love what has risen
My genes I need
but for you I’d bleed
