Turning Black
To pierce through the surface,
none sharper than words
A vowel like a razor,
to shave undeterred
Each letter a saber,
that strikes to the heart
All phrases an arrow,
your will to impart
Once spoken, each edge
is eternally honed
To cut through deception,
and carve into bone
The blood trail that follows,
all sages can track
Incisive, unsutured
—the truth turning black
(Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: January, 2020)
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