Confind within body
this endless red river, perceptible proof of existence.
Pulsating rhytm of life.
You live sailing close to the wind,
holding onto thought that life is more than those red drops.
Though, it gets under your skin.
A melancholy desire, a necessity to become convinced
that you are not condemned to redness.
And, decisions are made.
Alleviating cold steel touch.
A sharp reality for veins that cannot be eased.
Drops grooving patterns on your skin,
red inscription which indicates.
One touch that makes your skin blush and cheeks pale.
It evokes realisation
that you and those red drops resemble.
But opportunity is passed up
and you lose, once more.
