The First Drop
The icy touch of the blade
Meets the warm softness of my skin
Bearing down firmly but gently
I watch the first drop of blood
As it becomes free
From the constraints
Of my circulatory system
And is no longer blue
But a bright red
As the oxygen sweeps over it
I decide not to let too much free
As I do not wish to faint
And ruin my moment of
Masochistic pleasure
Meets the warm softness of my skin
Bearing down firmly but gently
I watch the first drop of blood
As it becomes free
From the constraints
Of my circulatory system
And is no longer blue
But a bright red
As the oxygen sweeps over it
I decide not to let too much free
As I do not wish to faint
And ruin my moment of
Masochistic pleasure
Published by Stephanie Alford
I've returned from my little emotional sabbatical. Much better now. View profile
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2 Comments
Post a CommentIt is a shame that you have to put up with such rude comments....................nice poem with a little dramatic imagination !...............but you're good at it ..................
hmmm. why?