Lines Poem by Dean Meredith

The blade cuts through quite well
Silver strong and thin beyond
All denial of what it might do
Fine bone handle of disconnect

With minimal pressure it slides
Slow motion down an easy sell
Through the carve of disbelief
And guides a hand held true

Self ordained in silent reverie
Complaining not of lost regret
The deed is done with glee
Thought comes long after

Sharpness and pressure mix
Their sawing motion of intent
Separate and conquer still
Life and death like twins

Leave breath to float
And find a neck to feel
Before the disconnect
As inward drive relents

She keys no invitation
Nothing more is meant
Until in hyper dreams
We meet without repent