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by John Grey
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What eyes...

the blood already

filling them,

iris floating in

a scarlet pool.

 

My mind

and that other mind

of mine

had not yet coalesced

and she already glowed

with anticipation.

 

I stared.

She stared back.

No longer lovers

but a car crash

in slow motion

 

Her eyes weren’t big enough

to hold that blood.

My brain had trouble

aligning me with myself

 

She flooded the room

crimson.

I splashed about,

confused.

 

She looked me deep

in the face

where I could have been.

I grabbed at her body,

bloodless by this.

   
   

 

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John Grey is an Australian born poet, works as financial systems analyst. Recently published in Bryant Poetry Review, Tribeca Poetry Review and the horror anthology, “What Fears Become” with work upcoming in Potomac Review, Hurricane Review and Osiris.  John’s Poem, Blood Types, appears in the January 2013 issue of HelloHorror.

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