Fingernails

If I murdered just a part of you,
It’d be the acrylics on your fingertips:
Ersatz talons, no matter how they curve.
You would turn a tiger into a canary.
Grow gnarled and ragged.
Grind your claws sharp on the whetstone.
If you cannot draw blood,
You will fail.

This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published Mar 24, 2009
  
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