stabbed my index finger on a prick
of my little smiling cactus, just now
while thinking about the speed of clouds traveling south
on a rainy day.
blood squeezed out of a tiny hole,
formed a bubble on me,
like a freshly plucked berry from its tree.
so i smeared my wound on my legs,
spelled out your name,
eyes followed the bend of an s,
and i wondered why you have so many curves in your name.
it hurts so much now,
like burning when i washed my hands,
but it's no big deal.
it's nothing a band-aid can't heal.
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