A Cutter’s Canticles

”Sweating, shivering, fighting,
struggling, shaking, resisting,
I offer you my greatest treasure,
I hand to you my most hated obsession,
My Lover, I give you my blades.”

His hands take them,
His arms surround hers;
His arms, oozing blood, cut there her name
in the very place where she carved another’s in hers;
His arms, dripping blood, spelling a Welcome
in the very place where she wrote Farewell.

“This is My body
cut for you.
Whenever you need it, drink My blood
with your eyes,
with your lips.
I offer you, beloved,
My open arms.”

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