The Scarlet River (#43)

November 15, 2017

Blood rushes,
it boils under my skin,

roars in my ears,
swims in my mind and
yet you are warm and I,

 

I am walking with ice in bones,
ice is the frozen stage
above my churning red waters,
a stone, a rock, a foot or
a sharp edged blade
could set my rivers free,
a push, a shove, a breath or
a single cruel word,
could spew cracks along my surface
and make no mistake,
you will perish with me


be careful where you step.






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