fugue

I bleed for your beauty
every drop is a verse
a red tulip born
from a love without pretense
in every dawn blood is sown
and reaped in every sunset
oh your lips of deep crimson
like fire   like roses
what joy you give me   love
what grief I give myself
I perish for loving you
in my poems I bleed out

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

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