My vision hooked shut A blaring symphony of cells Look: separated, I have again summoned up this scintillating, antiquated carving knife its tip clicked off the stains of sins past now rusting its dull feathered edge its handle cracked like nerves thirsting It is this I use. It is always this I use to penetrate my chest look (don’t) : I force the knife which yields softly, which envelopes the blade like pig putty and blood Screaming I push again my... Read more