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
