giving blood i'm selfish to keep all my blood to myself-- my uncle always goes to blood banks because he has O negative blood-- i do too-- i don't really know what that means other than you can give blood to anyone i don't tell anyone that because i'm scared they'll start calling me like they call him-- telling him blood supplies are low i imagine my veins like a water park-- inner tubes shaped like 'O's to let swimmers know what kind of blood i have-- they stand on top of great tall slides-- maroon splashing as they fall-- i can feel them beneath my skin-- their flutter-kicks & air bubbles from their noses-- all of them frantic looking for more O negative blood-- they drip wine skulls crackng open on sidewalks like watermelons-- their mouths full of red & white light sirens-- whenever there's a blood drive near by i find new excuses to be somewhere else-- i tell my friends i'm too short to loose any blood or that i just got a tattoo & that they won't take it anyway-- sometimes i say that i'm gay & my blood is still probably crawling with their 80s diseases-- you don't want my blood-- my wonderlusted contamination-- would you start to stare out windows more? start kissing the back of your hand remembering what his skin felt like? would you develop an uncontrollable obsession with looking up their the branches of old oak trees? i would be worried for someone who shared blood with me-- could they teach themselves to cry like i do or would they feel fists in their veins? i'd want to find them no matter how many cities over they were i'd show up at the hospital ask to compare blue wrists-- i sometimes walk past the red cross van-- other people laying down with the tube in their arm-- i think of them as grownups as more grownup than me to be able to give blood to lay their draining themselves as the the clouds take to playing hopscotch out the tiny van windows-- i used to cross my arms & lay back as i slid down the metal slide at the park watched the clouds playing leap-frog-- on over another over another