A boy I tried to be once

Showed me his knife 

On the church playground

The flip-out blade held loosely in his 

Preteen hand. Young and dangerous,

He holds it up to the sky like he’s showing not us but God 

Razor edge, slender promise of danger 

He holds it there, then flips the blade

The silver disappearing act 

As if it was never there 

I stand there in my Sunday best

Baby blue and

Yet unstained by blood

And I will never tell anyone

 What I saw