By ZACK STRAIT
There is a dark blue bible in the nightstand, a pitcher and torch
stamped on the cover in gold. I rub this symbol
with my thumb and I am comforted, knowing another
man was in this room before me, just to
place his light here. I take a seat on the bed, the verses rustling
in my lap like dry leaves as I open to the psalm
about our bodies, how they rise in the morning, settle
on the far side of the sea. And still love
follows us. Next door, two people are moaning. I turn the page.
Zack Strait is pursuing his PhD at Florida State University. His work has recently appeared in Ploughshares.
