The sharpest sword
is the one with
and ours is
a hidden blade
I can make light of what this is,
forever resting on its precipice
and hold it up as some kind of
far-off Inspiration, some lesson
from a past life, thus freeing me
from the responsibility and weight
of here and now, especially while
there’s so much fun to be had and
people to play with and
purple hats to be worn.
But the blade’s
I will make open, instead,
of what you are, and what
this is, and refuse to label
(which is needed,
along with the positive,
in order to conduct a charge
powerful enough to cause fireworks).
Let there be light.