Clear, soft, smooth
The cold air blows
The bumps appeared,
The shivers spread across
The length of the spine

The sharp neared,
And the clear, the soft, the smooth;
It is unaware
Yet aware

Holding to point
The blunt is far
But the sharp is near

Reddest of fluids
Gushing out from the slit
The opening is visible
In sight

Salty liquid from the hues
Flowing in sync with
The red

The clear has been grazed
The soft has been cut
The smooth has been scarred—
Satisfaction is met.