Of course he loves me. I’m his sister.” “Blood isn’t love,” said Magnus, and his voice was bitter.
City of Lost SoulsHer face was smeared with mud and blood and ash. Just another bit of debris in the wreckage of war.
The Drowned CitiesWhether we fall by ambition, blood or lust Like diamonds, we are cut with our own dust
The Duchess of MalfiYou were the missing piece of my soul, the breath in my lungs, and the blood in my veins.
The Edge of NeverIf abandoned rage asks, / Say, the very blood of our lives eats composure up.
The End of the Alphabet: Poems