A purposeful graze to the vein of my wrist
Gazing down with uncertain eyes
Following its path into its fading division
The touch moves downwards
Against the flow of the river,
The command of the moon,
The pull of a magnet
The maroon blood desperately clawing it’s way to the shivering hand
The pierce of the nail broken in its path
The betrayer of his other half
Fearfully the blood retreated
Coward they screamed
It no longer felt the path of emotions
No longer the sweat of its work
Snatched from his need to hold on to another
To trace the lines of his mother or gently wipe his lovers tears
Barren of holding a pen and flipping the pages of a book
The quivering blood slid its way back
It’s skin on fire, red and vulnerable
Did you find joy my love?
Of slicing the hand that once pointed to the stars
Have you seen what has come of it?
Devoid of your touch
For you my wounded soldier
I shall dream no more