Red Rust Poem by Christoph Praus

Red Rust



You can feel it on your skin,
Itching under and within it,
A red filigree;

And though you scratch and tear,
Your blood essential running,
Clearly you should stop;

Until each last vital drop,
Has flown your coursing vein,
Staining all it touches.

Thursday, April 16, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: blood
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