pink orange red she was
and he was the blue
night has passed to sooth our backs
dawn came late as romance grew

it felt nice to hold her then
now its colder than the floor
that she sat on
as the blue spewed out off rotted lips
and red faded pale

it tired him silly to fight off
the dark mouthed leech
and the beating heart
his *** hurt the space he filled
it left a dent on the mattress

mid-set the sun was when shadow came
the golden rays cooled sweating brows
he tired himself to generate
what he knew he should have felt
the noise was too loud
for him to hear his canine whimper
his maddened howls
his rage

but he never felt them
he lost all the strength
to be mad or tired
or sad or awake
the leech fed from the shockwave
of a bloodied burst artery

the shadow spat on his dried out brow
the trumpets roared
the droning fan screamed
the thoughts that came
a cacophony of the right and false and true and wrong
bleating goats
dropped stones

he forgot the coldness of her red
forgot the circles and the reasons
the kinked threads and wetted ends
the sternness of her stance
he tired the color off her
it tired him silly

dusk came for him early
it enveloped him
consumed him
comforted him
he who forgot what to feel
he embraced it
an ocean of air
vast as the noise
but comforting

pink orange red she was
and he was the blue