Taste of Blood

"Taste of blood,
Neverending taste of blood
slips between my fingers.

Pulse is constant,
Because my firm steps
will avoid it.

I remember the flesh,
Unchewing, now so sick,
I can feel it drifting in your hair.

Just in the moment,
Precisely while trying,
Illusionated, hallucinated,
Imperfectly intimidated,
I suspiciously take what's left of you". -M

Sculpture + acrylics + photos, assembled digitally. All by me except few pics from sxc.hu.