It takes one needle stick
A couple millimeters
Just to the right
To lash an artery,
Puncture a child’s lung.
So tempting to wander off the path
Toward that forest of surly pines
Hundreds of years imbibing
From a surging river of blood
Leaching into the soil.
Current is too quick to clot.
And all you can do is pack and pack and pack
As much pressure as it takes
To plug an empty space
Flooding like water into the cabin
Of a rapidly sinking yacht.
One match
Struck
Near a refinery
One prion clinging
To a cutlet of beef
An uncovered cough,
That elicits a missed glance.
A stone dropped plop
Into a pond from a bridge
Ripples into tsunami
Butterfly effects
One thing into the next
The black ice
On the downslope
Of the hill you've
Already rolled down
Laughing
All
The way.
I can't help but slip.
It’s not a pin prick,
Scarlet proof of life,
That you suck to stanch
It’s an impalement ,
Razor thin sharp
And just as bitter
To taste.
It won’t clot
Until I press myself
Hard against
Lacerated flesh
And never let you go
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