Blood

The sight of it makes grown
men weak in the knees. Others
are driven to near hysteria, panic
that blanks out emergency numbers,
or freezes fingers that once passed first 
aid and CPR courses. The taste of it pools
down the throat after tipping back the head 
in a nosebleed, after the reflex sucking when
a nicked finger flies to the mouth— hard 
to believe the body carries only an average 
of five liters, or a volume equivalent to two 
and a half bottles of Coke. In sleep, when 
you bite the inside of your cheek, don't your 
dreams seem curtained in crimson plush?