His face emerges from the tiles.
It spreads across the wall.
It glares at me, smiles sometimes.
It intrigues me.
It gnaws at my memories.
When the skin of the face melts away,
I enjoy a ghoulish delight in my veins.
When it frowns, I frown back at it.
It soothes me when it looks at me with grace.
Afraid of being carried away,
I quickly remind myself of His black blood.
The blood clots in my brains.
It oozes out molten lava of bitterness.
A stain of love remains.... absent.
A stain of a phantom pain.
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