Your Blood.
It's
Really
Quite
Nice.

It's
Languid
Path
Down Your
Pinky
Is Hypnotizing
Me
Such That I Cannot Look
Away

Such
A
Visceral
Crimson
Trail.

Such
Radiant
Rivulets

I Almost Forget
That You're
In A Little
Pain.

Also, You Say:
**** Those Papercuts.
They Hurt Worse of All.
And Yet...

I Would Not Stop You
Getting A Single One
If It Meant

You Showing Me
Your Plethura of
Vitality
Once
And
A While.