By Cassandra Freiborg 9/25/10
Kissing a bloody, lovely man
who can and ran from the dark
collecting deep in the heart
of a deafening stillness so bleak
it reeks of remorse.
Hauling a pile of bloody rags,
muddy boots you wore to shoot
and choking metal dogtags
grip your throat like a noose.
Your orders hang heavy from your shoulders
but liquor is quicker than making love.
Your bloody memories are astray
but your enemy still haunts that old decay
that gripping phobia, that waking nightmare
no agony was ever as acute as here-
In my heavy heart of a hero.