I've got the inevitable pinhole burnsAll down the frontOf my favorite satin shirt

Sometimes the wind blows just right.

I watch and I wait.

Sit and obeserve.

Spread my wings and float down.

Snatch a snake.

It twists, coils and strikes.

My ankle is bloody. Holy shit it is really starting to swell.

God, it hurts.

My veins turn black, creeping up my leg.

Christ.

I can see it moving toward my heart, which is galloping like a three-legged stallion.

It is making my t-shirt bounce.

The blackness is creeping up my neck.

Direct pressure does nothing.

I am turning green.

It's too late for a tourniquet.

Oh, God.