two pieces cut from the same cloth two pages ripped out from the same book we burn in distant fires a frail corsage and a stone in a wayward flame all for that unbreakable lady whom i approach with painted caution red pride black guilt and blue love on white sand blood is thicker than water but both can go down the same drain i m sick of thinking about nightmares and all the mysteries of sleep sapless visions of an old bearded man with a bleeding eye a sun scorched brow on a platter framed by both of his arms he s kept awake by his knowledge is he a poet a lover or a priest iokanaan antonius and the bearded man sit on their hands while i lay numb on a big bed blood is thicker than water but we go down the same drain