Red Creation | April 21, 2012

A bead of blood like a small balloon
Swells from the tiny cut
Slides in a gentle rivulet
Down the wrist and around
To drip, drip, drip
On the cool paper.

Three drops in a row
Sitting red on palest yellow
Secretly soaking, staining
Slowly becoming a mere smudge
of triplet circles, mingled.

One pain, three drops, one smudge
A trinity.
My blood is in this poem
This free perverse poem.



  1. Ouch. I hope you had a plaster? Nice poem though.

    Comment by hollyannegetspoetic — April 21, 2012 @ 11:59 pm

  2. Thank you, it’s okay now, TCP is stinking brilliant!

    Comment by rednax20 — April 22, 2012 @ 12:26 pm

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