blog of poet, leah umansky

The Revision of Love

In my hands, The Razor’s Edge would be a brutal piece – a heartbreaker – full of magic and lore, and the finding of one’s self would be an easy task for love always conquers.  There is no red cloth, or Spanish bull – no fight.  We need not kick up dirt, for that story would be encased in gold, but not pure gold (tarnished, etched, shoddy, bruised gold, but gold nonetheless). Gold cradled, fostered, wined and dined.  That story would be so loved it would lose its rigor, its sting. Nullfied. Dullified, plainfolked out. That story would be unbeknownst to you or me or anyone.

ALERT TO ALL THE READERS OF THE WORLD: – BE PASSIONATE, BE TRUE, AND BELIEVE IN SOMETHING OTHER THAN DOUBT.

In my hands, The Razor’s Edge would need no security. I’d like that story to perfection and I’d watch its casing shine, like cleaned fur gleaming.  I’d unknot that drama to simplicity.

(c) Umansky 2009