There is no quarter for my heart
General, you found my Achilles
Your words like bombs
Hit me and quickly
Crushed my breath
Into a shallow grave
There in my throat
Where, last night, I took you in

Oh! Such glad submission
Not even —
Don’t dream of it —
Stop imagining —
Cruel desire! Weapon of the gods.

What do I get? You snarled
*******
But that’s exactly
What you won’t do

I don’t know why or what or who
Where to go
The blue on the horizon turns to red
I stare at the unmade bed
Weeping in the prison camp
Of our briefly happy
(But really terribly sad)
Homecoming