Drippings of blood, from his lips
mouth tastes like a candy cane,
as he dips the tip of his pen down the center of my spinal notebook,
tangles his hands intertwined with mine,
we write the wrongs to the the rights

eagerly laughing " like we did this before"
we speak in times when we were young and carefree
I never knew his name.
only the taste... of that sweet candy cane.

as drips of blood, fill my lips.