A poem by Ryan Flett
At night
the moon
pulls at something
in your blood
like it does
the tides,
an embrace
by the heavens
that sense
the stardust
in your veins.

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At night
the moon
pulls at something
in your blood
like it does
the tides,
an embrace
by the heavens
that sense
the stardust
in your veins.
Blood in my veins,
In a frozen state,
Sliding like wine
On his curved, red lips.
Smoke in the air;
My thoughts burning.
Gaze stuck on the window,
Is the rain coming?
Lock my hands,
Throw the keys,
Push me in the fire,
Watch it melt with me.
If love is a tale,
Then what is your role?
Dying for your lover,
Or let him kill you on his own?
Or let him kill you on his own?