My Blood is Warm

It always surprises them that blood is warm

They expect it to be cold

Lifeless

Dead

When they slice, when they stab

They expect my blood to leak like a long-abandoned puddle of rainwater

 

But it gushes

Flows

It is a life-force

Hot

Fresh

Attached to me

Directly pumped from my heart

 

It coagulates on their hands and they grow angry

Why is it warm?  Why is it thick?

Why does it have weight?

Why does it stick and stain?

Why doesn’t it evaporate like transparent tears?

Why doesn’t it come off without painful scrubbing?

 

Because it is me.

Because you haven’t speared through condensing steam.

You have killed me.

And I beat warm for you.

My blood, my life-force carries my love

And it is hot.

 

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