No Blood Poem by alex haywood

As I suffer the beauty
of another sunrise
taste returns to my tongue
barricaded behind tongue and spit
I contemplate mahogany

brown eyes
like mercenary pools of lust
a piping hot compress
on blister pregnant skin
draw out the feelings

I grunt my displeasure

words, angry at the futility
of the arrangement of life
sears the wound shut
No blood on this Sunday.

Just an ache,
a dull pain I maintain
so I know where it hurts
Slovenly emotions
covers all 69 inches of me
each as unique as a snowflake
coursing through my skin
forcing me to hold
more than three thoughts
in my mind at a time

Then, comforting as a cross
in the hazy distance
I spy the unknowable tomorrow
as the sun rises inch by inch