blood

droplets of blood on my fingertips,

lips halfway parted

i taste only the aftermath of the tempest.

screaming into the night,

i flee the desert of apathy

dizzy from lack of life-breath.

suddenly awake.

barred owl calling through the darkness,

sighing of leaves against the breeze,

smells of cold rain, crushed apples, waning moons.

i want to hide from dreams of nettles tearing at our parallel souls.