Questioning the Knife Angel

Questioning the Knife Angel
(a sonnet)

 

How much blood has stained your rusted feathers
The DNA absorbed into the steel
Locked and soldered in your wings forever?
Do the lives taken make your life more real?

How many rapes are held inside your chest?
The edges of your lungs across their throats
Terrified eyes built the heart in your breast
Welded, made solid from screams and tears broke

At which end of the knife is fear greatest
The hand that might kill, or the one that might die?
Do handles soak up sweat, shaking hatred
Or the reason why they lifted a knife?

And is there an answer in your blank eyes?
Can your empty hands save even one life?

 

March 2024

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