A cardinal sings
and I shatter again.
I need a splash of wine to ease my sorrows.
The grief has spilled just
as blood spills from eternal wounds
and ruby lesions spread.
I want the taste of paprika
and ripe cherries to suppress the misery.
Anything to relieve my anguish.
Gushing rivers of passion
set me aflame,
and my devotion, so palpable,
glides like a scarlet kingsnake
slithering through the water.
When I have lost my composure,
there is nothing
like the whispers of roses
rustling in the breeze
to tame my wild nerves.
But the roses wilt and burn
beneath flames that consume,
and I am afflicted
by the crimson pain.