The blood on my fingertips
is mine.
It holds worlds within its oxidated spheres
that some, walking down this city street,
can taste on their tongues
like vipers.
Their eyes change color and form
when you look deep enough,
the eyes of reptiles
and
things that fly in the night
to hunt.
They smile at me,
knowing I see them
as they think to
savor the worlds within
my blood,
rich with learning.
Their leader smiles at me too,
ferocious, flirtatious, and feral
as she mouths the words, ‘No escape.’
I drip the blood on the tip of my tongue,
and offer it to her.
Laughing, she approaches,
eager to begin
the dance of worlds within.
BlackQuill 