Kneeling Knives

The Knife that crawls,

This Knife that paws,

This Knife that lays,

And stretches

Lingers round my feet,

First an accidental lick, 

Second an accidental nick.

Third an accidental scratch,

Until the Knife is swayed to catch,

Its accident.

It insists to atone,

By licking the wound.

Its hooked tongue burrows,

Under the guise, care is thorough.

It asks to pay,

Spend time in my lap.

I decline, 

It still paws.

Pushes and pulls,

Though it never leaps,

Like we promised.

I still stroke it,

Drawing my accident along the bared edge,

It purrs and plays,

Knowing it has won today.