|
Did you expect dignity?
All you see is bodies
crumpled carelessly, and thrown away.
The arms and legs are never arranged heroically.
It’s the same with lovers,
after the battle-lines are drawn:
combatants thrown
into something they have not
had time to understand.
And in the end, just
a reflex turning away,
when there is nothing, really,
left to say;
when the body becomes a territory
shifting across uneasy sheets;
when you retreat behind
the borderline of skin.
Turning, turning,
barbed wire sinking in.
These two countries lie
hunched against each other,
distrustful lovers
who have fought bitterly
and turned their backs;
but in sleep, drifted slowly
in, moulding themselves
around the cracks
to fit together,
whole again; at peace.
Forgetful of hostilities
until, in the quiet dawn,
the next attack.
|
