Corner of Skin and Viscera
The knife waits for no one. Hesitation
is not a vocabularic formm its teeth have
touched. Its orations are baser: puncture,
slice, flay, these are the blood
y dreams
that drive its handle. Hard against flesh,
the hilt sings in the ensuing shower, reigning
vein historically on key. The melody never changes.
Dark hints of dirge reverberate to infinity.
But the flare occasionally lilts, depending on texture
of skin, map of motion, or intentional time-
table allotted for organ removal.
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