THE KNIFE by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Under the bed
he kept the knife.
It kept him safe
from the perils of
the world.  The knife
would dream along
with him.  The shiny
blade was like a mirror
when he looked into it.
His hair was out of place.
The knife was there
every night ready
for action in case
anything went down.

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