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Poetry Magnum Opus

Razors


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I heard a trap door in

your mind close with the

sound of a dropped razor

hitting the bathroom floor.

The low hum of an electric

shaver reminded you of air raids

with bristles falling like bombs.

I preferred the silence of a cold

razor with blades blunted by time.

I shaved you clean of yesterday’s

memories, three or four bristles

were immune to the blades.

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Good write . It stirs surreal imagery that sends my mind off at tangents rather like a roulette ball before it settles into a final place. B.

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