Today's poem is by Malachi Black
To The Executioner
Your quickness is a kind
of love. As you administer
the incapacitating drugs,
you are the millisecond's
witness. You live
within the distance between
fingertip and glove as if
the absence of a fingerprint
were innocence. Still,
you alone know how
a kill can be redeemed:
Even the dead have dreams.
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Copyright © 2012 Malachi Black All rights reserved
from Hayden's Ferry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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