Challenging Poetry

as I touch, the world bleeds

today, as I wafted
through errands, the world bled—
crimson droplets oozing
from a table in the waiting room,
a shelf at the grocery store,
the automatic door where a security
door saw my pharmacy bag
and waved me through, unchecked,
scarlet rivulets staining
the blinking price at a gas station,
a concrete bridge with river water risen
to almost meet it,
the corner of my credit card
as I tapped, dying my fingertips
until I was heavy
with the world's blood.

Prompt: April 8—Blood