Tumbler

Just one of those freak accidents
Tripping on a torn carpet
Landing face-first, hard,
On the table's edge
Head snapping back
Fade to black...

Then a slow return to living color
"Where's the blood?," he wonders
"I feel no evidence of a crushed nose
No shredded lips or shattered teeth
And no dislocated neck
What gives?"
"Calm yourself," a dark angel whispers
"Perhaps another time
Your hour's turning late
But sorry, babe, you'll have to wait."