There is a crimson heart, fragile, rapt
in ribbons of warm velvet devotion;
it pumps and flows,
this vessel of rich red darkness,
steeped by experience and translucent scars
etched and carved by the throes of life.
There is a red hot anger that spatters and soaks you –
but for a moment –
then runs smooth and deep
scarlet as it soothes and cloaks you
and keeps you warm.
There is a woman, your crazy love
with the breakable heart;
listen to her