Cusp

This is time's fulcrum:
A New Year.  I climb
One side of the blade
To slice my feet before
Sliding down the other.

Forward motion cannot be
Gainsaid: what went before
Is saved by a New Year -
Rekindles hope and balms
All sores.  I wear

My divorce from myself
Like a badge, I turn my
Previous page and swear
All old words gone - my
Corrosion stops right here.
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