Image via Wikipedia | You are hot and cold

Your twisted face,

Stopped in it’s tracks,

Sunsets, roses and sweat,

Showing now in your rage.

Then I’ll forget,

What words you slammed at me,

Your looks gone,

When you turn red.

You’ll shout again,

Before cooling off,

Yet, how can I forget,

When you turned and bled.

Image by Tim Sheerman-Chase via Flickr | Don’t be mad

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