types of knife blades:

serrated, santoku,
boning, bird's beak, paring
fingernail, fire wood,
the swing set that buried itself,
the smell of cold rain
sharpening itself into my shoes,
a bottle cap, a falling of bottle caps
from somewhere high up, the moon
visible in the afternoon, hair ties,
a light switch blinking 
back/forth, a wrong pillowcase
a strand of jupiter color hair,
your tongue across my chest--
slicing me open: beautiful fish,
guppies, sardines, school bells 
somewhere all metal, sirens
chirping/ pretending to be birds,
birds--all the birds-- all their beaks
opening/ cutting craft paper,
the cruelness of April,
saying "i want to die" but really
just wanting to dissolve,
saying "i want to live" but
really just out of curiosity 
about how many colors pleated skin
can make in the aftermath 
of a knife-- more for the list
syringe, thank yous, refrigerator,
falling asleep, forget everything,
a ripe staircase, a righteous lamp,
the floor of someone else's bedroom
where you pressed me down--
all the scars on my back,
all the scars on my chest,
all the emptiness of the word
scar because you think it's 
metaphorical, needing a better
word for "scar" : fissure, cleft,
breach, ravine, rift, rupture--
a bracelet swallowed, a finger
tracing across your chin--
look at me severing you--
we sharpen each other's knives
with our bodies-- the way skin 
in a greedy surface, the way skin
is asking to aperture,
the way the floor is
a type of knife 
and so are we