Blood, the water of veins etched across the moon
He lied there motionless
Afraid, broken
What had he done?
Who has he become?
What senseless pain had he bestowed?
He didn’t know and yet he didn’t care
He loved her
He beckoned her
She came
He was not to blame
Her fragileness betrayed her
He was not the man bathed by sunlight
She was the sun
He was the dark
She was his heart
He was her blood.
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