when my eyes
rest upon the sky
and the soft blues
of it mingle with
the hues of a
fading red, i wonder
if it is the sky frustratedly 
crying out the blood
that it had held in, for the
fact that nobody desires
its presence
as passionately as it does
of the others. 
after all, we truly are so
very occupied in
finding a life within
the living.