A/N: Written for the Pairing Set Bootcamp challenge, 32. Lily/Scorpius and for the Freeverse Frenzie competition, poem 124.
A Larger Poetry Collection
34. Little Red Flower
Her hands were bleeding red from the lily's blood,
and he held them carefully to guide the flow
into a chalice already overflowing with sweet scent
but bitter tasting juice.
It was an eternal drought he drank
from her life, and she gave it willingly, hands cupped
to catch the goodness before it slipped away and sank
into the snow. 'Take it!' she said to him; take her purity away
Because it only burnt her, while his sweet lathering honey
soothed her screaming soul in pain.
'Give me!' she cried, 'Give me that honey!'
And he'd lather it liberately around her frame:
The honey made from the fruit of her blood
she caught in cupped hands for him.