your tear of blood flows
through my nightmares all night long
like a dream drips dew.
your fear animates
the darkest rooms like a light
is a chilling muse.
you know I know it—
that drip-drop of not-water
doesn’t matter, right?
still I pretend this:
mornings & evenings blend
colorful & light.
you are a prayer
& I fear not to answer
the power of loss.
isn’t it crazy
that a drop of your being
is only fleeting?