Victuals

Valdezi Sun'khar

Even before, I remember red,
weeping red, like the lone rose
against Jita station chrome.
 Too costly, I passed it by.

Though at the time it seemed perfect,
I remember now how stubborn aphids
had chewed away at its goodness,
tiny tears in the red petals
and the cluster of thorns on the stem.

You loved the red
of a heart eaten raw
lifted to your smiling mouth
your teeth stained
your red rictus
twin lines framing your chin
swiftly drying to a crust.

A man more wise
might have known to step around
a cooling pool of blood,
two damp trails leading off
and the grim white reflection.

Instead, my toes disturb the almost-dry surface
brush aside the browning skin
to reveal slick and sticky red
coating the tips indelibly.

It was nothing. Consumed
by a single gout of red flame,
crumbled to ash.