Blood Today, dear Victoria , I bleed. My feelings are beyond any grief Old wounds still left unhealed Much more sore than before, it’s sick. Scarlet blood flows freely, Like water rushing without a course. Carving new wounds, it hurts. Red blood gushes, to where, I don’t know. Pain cuts deep in my memory In ugly crevices I’ve never seen Probing further, slowly stealing my verve I am bleeding badly, it kills. Blood, sweet Victoria, is life. Red, hot, warm, so alive. If my bleeding means I’m up Then blood, just flow out, I’d be glad. 2007, NYC

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