A simple paper cut

 

The paper pages lashing out

bounding from their binding

licking my face with the rough

sides of their unmolested fury

poking prodding with pointy edges

some slithering around between knees                                                   

others slashing down like a well-

honed blade

                        A cut

A paper cut

to sting and burn, as the blood wells

the blood against page’s crisp white flesh

burning and searing,

as it flutters down to the open

binding from where it came

pulling it closed with a force

akin to a once open, now closed,

sprung trap