i stabbed my finger, the one i point with, the overworked one right there on my right hand, a hidden sliver of broken glass the culprit, and the band-aid drags across the keyboard, misspelling words and adding unwanted spaces. such a tiny spot, no bigger than a pencil point - still, i thought it would never stop bleeding.
it's after 9 on a monday night.
i can't see this little heart in the darkness, but i know it's out there,
across the bridge, almost to the garlic plant.