Blade, by Nigel Hutchinson

Sharpened steel is a rate of exchange,
a language to the point, a one liner,
blade delivers its simple message,

distils it all, reduces prey
to a single wordless transaction,
as if blood alone is currency,

light on steel flashes a stainless smile,
though it’s not a full-face portrait,
just teeth looking to bite, unthinking eyes

that’ve shrunk their victim
from subject to object,
to obstacle.