you are my whetstone

how often it is uneasy
the sound of my inability
to let dull
the edges
along tongue, that pierce lip
then ear, then heart.
my shortcut
along your anatomical trails.

though, i have heard
more fingers are lost
under dull blades.

for you, i will remain
serrated for precisions sake.

since, i have heard
that liars lose fingers
under dull blades
in countries still bleeding
the rein of monarchy.

for you, my love
i will keep the cat at bay
she cannot have
what is in my mouth
that way
you will not need translation.




wb