Taste Of Anger

Singular

I was cold before you touched me with your hands and your heart, 

The clarity of your face is so comforting, settling into my being.

 But still, I can see the confusion in your eyes about how you feel. 

Are you into me? Or into something in me that resembles cotton?

You will immerse yourself in me with all your sweet and bitter parts, 

My pain is singular, and my pleasure is singular. 

There's only one blood that waters the lavender fields,

 It is the blood that flows trembling and angelic, making the red-blooded butterflies flutter.

Another woman would have to come before you to realize how heavy my absence is,

 And it's not as soft as cotton as you may imagine.

 No one could take my place, no one...

 There's only one face to this soul, mine.