It leaked from a wound we tore wide-open, raw;
And grew so grey and solid as we looked down,
Tiptoeing inbetween the sharpened fragments.
One broke and struck: the gentle foot bled
Slowly, blood trickled down on pages blank
Carved the unsaid, embedded, fed.
It grinned and, licking droplets, drew
A portrait of what-we-are-
To-be.
However hard we pressed each other to each other's
Naked breast, it oozed through our twining fingers,
Squeezed between the limbs not close enough.
Yes, all the shadows crouched as I eyed it leaving.
Your eyes dropping from the brim of pleasure.
Yes, I glanced it crawling back behind your shoulder
Bare
You did not have to see:
It's gone:
Though left the door half-opened.