Love is a curious war
one of worlds colliding under a deep red sun
cut ties, interlinked with a warm rush
down the spines of waking senses
rivers of words soaked in blood embracing joy
from all the foreign battles this one is mine
a torn fabric woven by the sound of time
in halls of mirrors that showed me a truth
lost in myself, yet freed from my mind
at the edge of a world waging wars with itself
I am the boiling blood & sharpened blade
the calm in the storm & color of everything felt
poem@ikm