Blood
Symbiotic? Parasitic?
Your heart is plenty red.
"A pale shade, without you" she said.
The object of love - when gone, is dread.
And with it does flow the hopes all along.
Down trails they go these rivulets long.
Fingers drain what once was so deep.
To you this may seem, dramatic, extreme.
From hands to feet, my essance does bleed.
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