Red River

My love is a red river,
full of blood,
passionately tearing at its banks,
widening, wildening,
carrying dark soil.

Hold the golden moon,
hold it between your palms
and let its light
cascade down onto the earth,
onto the blooming trees.

I don't need you,
my hands are cold
black marble,
not warmed by any sunlight,
but warmed in the hot waters
of my red river.

Dip my hands
into my love,
the blood of my soul,
the silent screams of the night.