Flood Of Redness Poem by Naveed Akram

He laid a hand on the elbow as for now,
Again and again they felt like low,
Yet never did the angering fellowship concoct,
A mighty redness like blood, like flood.
He laid it on the heavenly arm of stem of deception,
Like a stranger in fortitude of sentence-description.
His speech meant nothing, just speech and rendition.
I can not for the life of lead be endowed with privilege -
The exact opposite of what was.
He reminds me of herself, the elbow she had,
And the red blood flowing again as if heat,
Or flowing like lead or iron or some form of deceit.