Poem 20151228

i glow
i am a furnace
hot and steel-forging
and the blades i produce
make damascus weep
each word an edge
each word a razor so fine
it slices my tongue as it
leaves my mouth

i quench my blades
my words
in the cool water of you
in the satisfying draughts
of your eyes
of your words
which are sheaths to my own