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| SALLY K. LEHMAN | ||
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| It's
cold at first
It's cold at first The metal as it touches the surface Until slowly the heat of the skin The heat of the steady Pulse beat Warms the blade Marvelous indisputably How much heat can come from a wrist How quickly it can shift From the body to the alloy Of course the voices in your head, The ones that put the blade there In the first place, Remind that it would warm Faster covered in red Faster if the skin would split Faster should the blue pulse point Open to the cold steel But the smooth edge simply Continues its unvarying although useless Path for the moment |
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| © 2003 Sally K. Lehman | ||
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More Poetry The Dissolution of Marriage Number OneThe two in the car looked too happy And What do the Dead Expect
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