Book #2

Blood Red

Whoever called it blood red?
As if there is only one color of blood?
Only one shade that blood can be?

There are protocols around blood,

Saying that bright red is an issue -
It's fresh, it's new, it's oxygenated, straight from the lungs, from the heart.

Darker blood, maroon or wild wood-colored blood is okay -
It's older, taken it's journey around your body, or wherever it's been, maybe the concrete where she bled out.

And a most gorgeous thing,
If you've ever cupped blood,
When blood starts to turn old, and it mixes with water or something clear or clearish-white,
It makes this lovely time of red, kind of a pinkish, even a slight twinge of purple into magenta in the right light.

Not to mention
That is only human blood.

I heard that some other animals have different blood, different blood types.
Blue, purple, yellow, white.
The range of things that blood can be.

Few think of it as beautiful.
Most that do would be suspected criminals.
Loving blood is taboo.
It's unfortunate,
Such beauty is rarely truly appreciated.

But I will never forget
How beautiful it was
When my tears fell into the puddle of blood by her shoulder,
Stirring up the old blood into the new, and the new blood into the old;
The liquid formed a glaze over the top, like oil on water,
But it was water on blood
(Or whatever mixture is in tears, on blood)
And it didn't last long,
Mixing when my fists fell in agony
Into the scene,
Like the clearing of a sand mandala
Showing that nothing lasts forever.

I shouldn't have gotten attached.
Now it's all blood red.