When blood, a river of roses, runs
and floods, a Phoenix rising red
and soaks your skin and cloaks you scarlet
rumbles creeks where sense has fled,
and rushes to your little head
as passion pulls and pulverises,
irises burst as dreams fulfil
materialising in all their guises.
When civility sheds its clothes and bares
desire in all its physicality,
surrender to your quickening pulse
accept the moment’s animality.