Invading with paper mache swords
Paper rattlesnakes, yellow flags
Blood runs thicker, red down stitch
Ludicrously looking for loose cigarettes under the seat
Rinse and repeat, dig in, position, overlapping fields of fire
Intersecting in the wire
Blowing ash off the tip of Camels
Down the drain is where the plan goes

Cold hands with a warm honeyed kiss,
A greeting he's conditioned to miss
Like a star itching for an appearance through a cloud
She wonders,
Digging through layers of knitted blankets
After celebrations and tangled banquets
Was there ever a time when her touch wasn't found?