though I am a shadow

though I am a shadow I see
like a leaf over the water
the counting knives
and sleeping trees
a weight over the cord of the earth

the sound of the devil is like my own voice
pushing out of my mouth with its words
and the sky is quiet cut back against the knees
old cloak

the sound of my voice is the anvil
each step
each sound
the color of the light
lean in to strike the blow against the iron

soon I will make a word
like a good shiv
tucked against my stomach

one day I will make a sword
when I am free