Bethany Reid

His Neck Slashed

the murdered man staggered
from the bed to the dresser
and stood, astonished, where each night
for thirty years he had emptied
his pockets of coins and keys—
staring now into the mirror as his life
drained from him, his soul
draped like a pair of silk stockings
over his wife’s vanity table,
after a while, lifting and drifting
into the afterlife without him.

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