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Carving Tool
The eighth steak knife is gone
from the wooden block
which holds the set,
a gift from Anne long ago.
We use them so rarely-
how could we have lost one?
I imagined my daughter had taken it.
She was a thief, and besides-
could not stop cutting herself
with whatever she could find
to bleed out her pain.
Her sweet body a maze of scars-
worthless
tooled across her right calf
in angry slivers.
I would stand on the other side
of her lavender door,
my palms pressed moist,
unable to push through.
I never found the knife.
Perhaps it fell into the trash bin
after a night of wet steak
and dark wine.