If you give me a softer edge
I will believe in your touch
For in the grasp
Of a summer day
I remember all these dreams
And I can hear the buzz
Of the honey bee
Singing in my ear.
But if the edge continues to hone
I’ll find my sharpness cutting knots
Deep within my root stricken back
Holding me to gnarly strength.
I am the fire
Should I be struck
For I awake within my heart,
I am the dirt
That crumbles with
A slipping fist no longer clenched
No longer fighting back.
It’s not enough to hear your name
– Flicker of hope in my eyes –
I want to consume your name
So each letter feels my tongue
Amidst a mouthful of visions.
I want to hold you to my pressure points
So the forging of our steel
Will create the finest edge
Any blacksmith has ever hammered.
And when my silence is dearly broken,
I want it to be your vision
That subtly slices open my vein
So that I have no separation
Between what you are and I can be,
Where long roads converge
And my stone hones your edge.