Halberd

Halberd 7/10

This paper is filling with your blood
                        It is a mosquito gorging – small footed
and resting gently – unnoticed – on your neck

This page is pressing its tweeter into you
                        all novocained up – sliding
until you feel that pinch

This paper will bleed you dry
                        An army of leeches – suckling at your
gangrened stump – inhaling the rotting ends of you

This page is a mercenary
                        I am sending it out – rolled into planes
It comes back periodically – I pocket the toil