Edge

Does the blade know the stone

strips the faintest whisper of steel

from the edge it leaves behind ?

Does the stone know the stolen steel

that clings to it, changing its face ?

The best conversations

shave off dulled truths

and decorate our thoughts

with magnetic sprinklings

of other lives.

Cutting through what we have built

and gathered.

Leaving not a wound

but knowledge

keen and glittering

and ours.

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