Orchard of Knowing

Into the shadows I go
and find you, gorgeous as your necklace
of nine hundred and ninety-nine index fingers.
All of them point at me
as the kill to complete your mission:
to return to your kingdom by returning to your king
a thousand human sacrifices.
You chase me. You swing your sword

yet I remain beyond your reach.
I’ll surrender, I tell you,
when you detach from your received idea of purpose.
So you do. You set down your weapon.
But I didn’t mean the blade in your hand.
I meant the blade in your mind.