Envelope

The envelope was thin.

The kind that cuts clean.

I was opening the bill

like I was supposed to.

My index finger opened instead.

A line of red appeared.

So fine at first

I thought it was the paper.

The blood came through.

Onto the yellow highlighting.

The amount due now marked

with my blood.

It seemed intentional. Like

the envelope had been waiting.

Like opening it was the wound

and I was just the delivery.

I stood there watching it bleed.

Waiting for it to stop.

It didn't for a moment.

A small thing becoming insistent.

The bill has a brown smear now.

I haven't opened it again.

The cut is already healing.

The paper stays on my table.