"How long has it been since you've talked to him?"
I don't tell them of the
letter you sent
entirely blacked out
except for the phrases
"Dear, Emily"
"Love, Zachary"

I wish I could ignore
the camouflage backpack
lurking in my closet
waiting to steal you away from me
again.

I look outside of my window
at the sky
dripping snow
and wonder
if where you are
the skies
are bleeding sand.

A battered photograph
cannot fully capture
the mossy green of your eyes.
Camouflage is your color,
my dear.

I would rather
sleep alone tonight
than sleep with you
knowing that you'll be sleeping with another woman
tomorrow night.

His home is an orphanage
in downtown Belize.
Triple-decker bunk beds
topped with ***** stained mattresses
fill each room.
An abandoned 10 year old
lies paralyzed on the floor;
"Don't touch him. Nobody ever touches him."
A small child covered in sores
sleeps in a puddle of his own *****.

I offer a container of pink Play-dough to a boy
who proceeds to sculpt me
changing the pink to brown
with his ***** hands.
When he is done,
it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
"What is your name?"
"I'm Allen"
He tells me about his dreams of leaving Belize
and becoming a U.S. soldier.
He tells me of how his mother,
a **** addict,
dropped him off at the doorstep when he was 8 years old
and how he remembers
the look of fear and disappointment in her eyes
every time she looked at him
and saw his father.
His favorite color is blue.
Together, we make bracelets with colorful beads,
and as I stand to leave
he hands me a pinkish-brown heart
warm and sweaty
from his ***** hands.
And in return
I hand Allen,
and every child like him,
my own heart
red and ******,
dedicated and passionate,
foolishly and hopefully attempting
to change the world.

I went on a mission trip
to help others.
But I found my heart being changed
and my life turning up-side-down
by the ***** little hands
holding mine
and saw that I was not helping them.
They were helping me.