A Drop of Blood

Lily. Her face pale and

Soft

the darkness of her lip: tender, and passionate.

but oh! so young are you, dear lily,

so young; so raw; you are a bud in a field of colored flora.

Angel, angel, look how the color spreads

a light tinge of rose

like liquid ruby or red wine.

But her smile, hardly a hint, hidden behind discomfiture:

I spy the curl, her lips,

spy how they curl:

A swift fleeting delight.

And her eyes, sparkling and like stars, or diamonds in the sky.

Framing her small face

Her face

The black/red bangs, locks that adorn Smokey eyes.

Contrasting and

Comparing.

The blush, oh that innocent hue,

Like a drop of blood

in a bowl of milk.

I do not own The Time Traveler's Wife.

But I can say one thing: it is the most beautiful thing I have ever read in my entire life. If you want to know what this poem is about, it's about Clare's 'first time' when Henry was 41 and Clare 18 (May 24, 1989). The part where Henry tells her 'I met your six-year-old self two weeks ago' and she blushes. I'm completely positive that this poem does not describe how I feel about that moment but this is the best I can do.

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