White colored roses
cough black blood
when I pin them in your
intricate braid,
thick, rattling like
a snake in my misty
eyes;
hissing, hiding
two-three wicked deeds
I’m afraid to push
my hand inside
your nest,
terrified
of what I could
find.
I’m happy being blind.
Floating in your biting love
If only for a while
I’m happy being
Blind.