The Song of the Knife

Hone me
on the stone smooth as granite
to be sharpened.
Grind this edge.
Polish this blade
that pierces, cuts and penetrates.
I split a silken thread lengthwise
with my edge.
Like a ray of light
work a surgical purification.
But I cleave
without hurting,
like a feathery caress
you find me nestled …
your guest, almost …
for pain and pleasure are twin sisters.
Hone me
on the stone smooth as granite
to be sharpened.
Grind this edge.
Polish this blade
that pierces, cuts and penetrates.