We are blood.
Our veins run red and thick
with oceans of each other.
Our hearts are linked electrically with velvet wires.
And for every ounce we spill with hate,
There’s hundreds more we give away.
We choose to give ourselves to one another.
Until the imaginary lines between us
Begin to blur and then fade.
We live in houses made of one another.
And in this way we cannot die,
Only move.
And should my cells move into you
I think that’d be okay too.