Molten Blood

Faceless and nameless, I will hang

your portrait on my wall of fantasies

brush strokes of secrets and lies

painted by my carmine rage.

Portrait of passion ignites

with drops of molten blood.

Your rapture shines in sanguine fluid

dripping claret syrup onto canvas

as you lay like corpse upon my bed,

my frozen fingers dipping paintbrush

into fresh container of crimson liquid,

the bruised wine of fresh grapes.

Blemished hands clamp together

skimming droplets over crumpled skin.

I cherish my masterpiece of copper art,

shining face of rapture, as pigment

spurts in air and congeals in my memory.

Hues dry as I recreate your life before death.