I woke up afraid I’d bled through the skin of my body.
The furniture wept at the sight of all that blood. Breakfast: egg, berries bloodied, thawed.
The egg softened into an eye. It spit pits & pieces.
It held itself above its melt like a head.
To go under again would be to drown, to become eye-less like pearls, a mattress, a womb.
It’s hard to eat everything at once.
lt’s hard to pull sheets tight under a body that shifts & turns bloodless.