to write love on her arms and spill ink in her veins
he knows from this night their love will never be the same
unable to extinguish the fire that grows in his heart,
unhinged, his love he poured forth
he dipped his quill in the open wound in the center of his chest
he scribbled a few verses of the love that caused him many nights of unrest
he recited some prose, written in the blood that once bonded them
slowly floating down the stream of unconsciousness