Today's poem is by Randall Mann
He slid the stiff blade up to my ear:
this should have been thirst, a cheapening act.
But I lacked,
as usual, the crucial disbelief. Sticky, cold,
wet in my mouth, wrists bound by his belt,
like the boy in a briny night pool, he who found
body, yet still somehow swam with an unknown joy.
Copyright © 2014 Randall Mann All rights reserved
from Straight Razor
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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