Ripple:
pulse racing,
thin skin
where a bite could
break a life,
inimically enamored
and so selfish,
vampirism
of the will.

Trust:
viscous trickle,
crimson creek
receding,
bleeding dry,
but will I stop
in time?
Don't draw the line
before my date
of expiration.

Love:
slender,
young,
entwined,
we vine concurrently,
wrists locking—
not so shocking
once you know
we're not alone.

Betrayal:
liquid luster,
gleaming string of
pearls unfurled
between us,
panting
in the aftermath,
but then you slip
asleep
beneath me,
wandering hands
gone lifeless.

Maybe next time
I'll convey
the way you make me
feel.

Alive.