Marriage And Your Razor-Sharp Edges Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

It is not that I got cut that I tell
o marriage as razor-sharp edged,
I saw two, by two trying to sew it
together when it was in tatters.

They patched with red patches here,
and doctored the edges together,
One tear while there was revealing their
guts to the world.

The one razor-sharp edge, was searing,
tear by tear, in a mad rush, that would
never stop after the words, 'I do.' I
swear, the razor-sharp edge, meant it
was doing the sequestration, of love.

Razor-edges, made to slide into objects,
Can break a heart when sharper lyrics are
pushed into the soul. For tender is the spot
where they land.

The sure thing we end up with is unmendable
rags good only for the trash can. If only the two
had kept the edges blunt and handled
the words I do with the center, bringing
the sharp edges together. Too late, sang
a bird as it flew away, still wearing a bib
with a ring on its finger. Razors can't hurt
me. I'll only be back on the rebound of an
old shark, that has a tougher fin,
just to say it is not easy.