the needle punctures acutely sliding
slick silver shiny into saccharine veins that
palpate gentle & blue under stark white
harshness. fluorescent gods do not care
how my blood pinches into the vial, do not
think much of mortality,
would, in fact, drain me dry with sleek mechanical
emotion, my arm unfolded to receive
such blessing, trembling slightly, goose flesh
pimpling softly to remind my soul
how much body it still is. blood, dark with
longing, gleams violently
in its glass container. “is this you?” blood-taker asks
holding out labeled vial--
she wants me to look at my name, say yes
that’s me. was me. but honestly
I’m caught off guard by how the blood swirling
so calm, pulsed through my heart
just minutes ago.
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