To look through a window and see
pedestrians as coin
and imagine them
going about their business
unaware
or carefree,
draining from your pocket
instead of filling it
it is to forget who you are.
To look out
your blood window
onto a flesh world
and see only metal people
is to think flesh and
skin are blast-hardened.
Is to be blind to
the way all flesh
tears itself open
under enough pressure,
is to be oblivious to
how a bullet splashes it.
How a machete
pries it apart.
How a bomb spreads it
across a room. Looking out
your window of blood
and imagining that’s
moneyworld out there,
you have forgotten
you aren’t made of steel, either.
Dark Matter 
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