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the metal was tipped with blood

on the nite i dreamt

of a road dripping

moist like black silk-

there was moonlite in the lampposts.

my tires gripped the tiny rivers

praying around the blood

flinching-

trying not to stare at the sparks.

maybe they could cut her out

but how would they get all that blood back-

while it was scabbing on the metal.

i wish i had not slowed down

i wish i could wake up.