The final kiss:
the tearing viscera -
he never fully
it came to this.
His generous smile was
his and only his:
nineteen years:
gorgeous teeth and lips:
his company’s been my bliss.
Well, he went away
with guys like him
a sporting team
to fight in Afghanistan
God knows why.
Stabs me to picture his face
torn to splat and gore
last week by a roadside bomb.
Two mates died beside him
in that lunar landscape.
I knew that there was trouble
when a car pulled up
and an army chaplain stepped out.
My womb bleeds to death:
I choke under rubble.
No comments:
Post a Comment