What blood sounds and smells like


pure receptor

embarassed to pick up

every signal sent on this train,

every feeling felt,

the doubtful wavering

of the woman wondering

if her hair is right,

the dull plodding of the multitude

swiping, swiping,

the man sugaring on ahead

to his visit with the family,

and yes, the girl in red,

her mother worried.

She doesn’t want her to worry.