Love, Blood And Steel Poem by April Down

Steel edge like frost against my skin
Listening expertly to the metals pleads
Smiling with satisfaction at a job well done
And how time momentarily speeds

Innocent eyes admire the residue
Staining the white of my skin
Dipping a finger then to my lips
I let the salty taste rest on my chin

Repeating the process I stifle the itch
Such pride, I look upon my work
I am the master craftsman
The sketches engraved is one of my perks

Each night I lay in anticipation
That taste teasing my tongue and lips
Aching for my parched throat to be wetted
With that of my labour and craftsmanship

An icy edge kisses my neck
Encased in a minutes pace
I lick the cool rim lovingly
That metallic zest lingering in my space