I bled.
A trail that dragged, never ceasing.
My shadow obscured at my will,
but always it was increasing.
Ever woozy with growing loss,
I had trouble with the piecing
together of the spilling that followed
each step that I took and the releasing.

But then I met your gaze.
The same I met in each reflection
that I see on the rivers bank
and in the puddles but with a certain affection.
Something that I would soon see in my own.
And thus we made the connection
of shared wounds that follow our movements,
of the blood along the paths of our abjection.

You brought a light.
A light that could clear my shadow
and brighten this deep red of mine.
A light that you let me borrow
to let me do the same for you
and you keep when my lack feels hollow.
A light that made shadow a path
that I could always follow for tomorrow.

We licked each others wounds
curled together as cold mongrels do,
able to see the pride of wolves and panthers
in the small hemorrhaging paws
to the scars on our low dragging tails.
I’ll never forget the warmth of you,
of the ragged fur like mine
that we cleaned for each other and made new.

I stayed awhile.
As if I had found home in your tender
warmth like a hearth ever-burning
in the living room. I learned to be a mender
as you were for me, stitching the very same scars
that you had on my own body. I learned your splendour,
every inch of wonder within your walls
And every piece that makes your unique render.

Still I bleed.
And so do you, but now our blood is mixed
all together in the room we built with a fire.
The blood keeps us warm, the blood keeps us fixed
to each other, and never will it seperate
and so never shall we. Even when atwixt
the warmth of fire and blood, and even
when your blood stains each wall; I’m transfixed.