at the edge of dream

i lay
the cold curve
of the
blade
gently
lovingly
resting
on my flesh
the way
the candlelight
dances on
the metal
plays upon
your contented
smile
i cannot tell
which one
cuts deepest
through
the long
silent night
hovering
where sleep
is a myth
and dream
runs freely
over your
knuckles
as you carve
your name
in cursive
over my
heaving ribs

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