The woman I was supposed to
marry moved away long ago
And no matter how hard
I tried to follow the dust trails
I only ever came up short of breath
In the end of days
where it's always night
we spend time
in a broken down watering hole
on the edge of purgatory
and listen to muffled bomb blasts
bleeding on through to the other side
When she laughs she
stares up at the ceiling
and I can see traces of
repressed horror welling up in her eyes
I can tell she's thinking about
nitroglycerin sweat and splintered cells and scattered shells
before it all goes down
In the retro cartoon relapse nightmare
I've conjured for us to spend our time
The television flickers with the hissing reluctance
of reporters telling us to prepare for another
invasion
She finally speaks.
"You know there are no real sides right?
You know that back home there's just
dodging fire and not necessarily knowing
who it's from?"
She takes another drink
and tells me
"You could have come
for me, you know?
You didn't have to sit stateside
with endless excuses while the rest
of us had to be there on the blurred
front lines.
Still...I want to be with you now.
Here I am trying to look my best.
I like to wear
brightly colored ribbons
woven into my hair
and don't bother to cover
all the scars...because
that's who I am.
they can't take it back
and neither can I..."
She pauses to brush
tears from her face
and finishes with
"...and I think everyone
wants to look nice for the one
they love".