combat.

i felt your face, disfigured,
kissed the pleats of keloid
puckering your jaws. you
were cold, flushed with
camphor and distance.

my mother warned of this,
not long after you enlisted:
war transmogrifies the men
and suffocates the wives
with silence.

i know now. i am not the
balm we thought i’d be.

you twitch in your sleep:
reflex, regret. your body a
hollowed rind. when sleep
rescinds, i press an ear
to your rib and listen
for farsi or fruit.

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4 thoughts on “combat.

  1. The imagery in this is so alive I nearly cried… especially here:

    “i know now. i am not the
    balm we thought i’d be.”

    I have to echo tank, I definitely like this.

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