Blood Love
My love was already blood
a burning lust,
Today, is melancholy loose
ethereal fluid of nostalgia,
it's just a deceitful anguish
that insists on running in me
(when I dream of her still),
still comes to my mouth
bitter taste unpleasantness...
Falls in drops,
drop by drop of the weakened bulge
from my cold soul heart
so sad...
Love is now cold,
but the blood stays warm
as if expecting return
from someone who for sure
will not return
to live another immense love!..!
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