to write love on her arms and spill ink in her veins

he knows from this night their love will never be the same

unable to extinguish the fire that grows in his heart,

unhinged, his love he poured forth

he dipped his quill in the open wound in the center of his chest

he scribbled a few verses of the love that caused him many nights of unrest

he recited some prose, written in the blood that once bonded them

slowly floating down the stream of unconsciousness