Friday, 24 April 2015

Poem: Cold Steel

When the cold steel sliced into my belly,
There was no pain, only discomfort.
Gazing into her eyes from a kissing distance, I wondered
Did they show betrayal, hatred
Or did they continue to speak of love?

Maybe both.
Maybe neither.
They spoke a brutal truth:
“You are you and I am I...
And since you question that,
Let your flowing blood answer your questions.”

Blackness came and went.
Life ebbed with each heartbeat.
Blood in spurts stained her fingers
As they held the dagger firmly in place.
They were the reason I was still standing.

And then came the release
And a gentle shove backward
Dropped me to the floor, still gazing.
We never lost eye-contact
Even when my head struck the stair
With a crack that rang deep in my nostrils.

Kneeling, she took the kerchief from my pocket
Deliberately wiped each finger clean
And caressed my cheek.
I pouted, Mmmwah.
A silent flying kiss.
She playfully caught it in her hand
And put it to her lips.

We smiled
A sad little smile that said
Thank you and goodbye.

“Wipe the knife clean,” I whispered. “No fingerprints...”
And I cried out at the shocking white flash of pain
As she withdrew the knife from the wound.
Blood spurted with renewed vigour.
Raising my head from the floor,
I glanced at the little red fountain
And slowly yielded to the spreading blackness and numbness
As she walked out, gently closing the door behind her.

No comments:

Post a Comment