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.

Copyright © 2012 Malachi Black All rights reserved
from Hayden's Ferry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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