Blood
A sudden slice of skin
That pearls, then peels apart
Beading tiny drops of liquid
Which sit neatly, quietly
Waiting, welling for a moment
Brimming, holding pause
Needing further strength
Before pushing outwards
Then the pump and pulse
Stroke of a distant heartbeat
Forcing fluid pressure
Through arteries, veins, capillaries
To break the confines of the cut
Pouring crimson from the wound
A slivered stream of life-blood
Dripping red upon the whiteness
The jagged scratch-line
Filling and flooding
Inundated by the flow
Drops spotting the ground
AB Positive perhaps
Vital to some-one else
Waiting to be staunched
With pads and bandages
And the subtle clotting power
Of life’s congealment
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