A tear catches on my thumb
Sits, swelling, on the tip
I can’t quite remember what–
remains inside me
a black pain
that floods my thoughts with red–
red lava that bubbles and jumps and burns.
I never knew there was a space between
my heart and lungs and stomach
but it does exist, or once did,
because now it’s filled with churning lead.
My mind is reaching for a moment–
a circle of blue, swirled with purple–
when I made a choice
but their voices are too loud– obnoxious–
break into laughs
scrape and suck the air and spit
it back out again
Somewhere, I know, a bull paws the ground.
I am shrouded in the crimson cloth.
I know where his horns will pierce my skin.
The tear, so small on a cheek,
Looms on the top of my thumb
A bursting blister.
It falls – clear – and floods my finger.