Two Poems

When the War Comes

you are black out/drunk at a party/he fucks you on a mattress/without sheets/you run/from hands wish for arms when the war comes/you lose/your wine in a bottle of names/when the war comes you are only 16        have not learned/the word combat/the war is here inside/this room/and you think/love is locking the door/you empty yourself of mouth crawl/from him/a smudge of body/when the war comes/you are unarmed in soupy dark There is blood/on the mattress in this room /passed through the hands of many generals they never speak of bodies/they only blame the war

The Only Thing I Own

Body, why can’t I remember you

right. I know you’re no life

boat. No sail-starved

wind. Your ode keeps

renaming. We become separate

seas. Come

closer. Don’t worry. The doctors

opened your mother’s heart

in time. Your father built his boat

inside a bottle. Body I have wailed

amongst this squall

of salt. Have stung, sunk

and sung. Body it’s okay to be

afraid of each other.

To say I don’t know

you before falling asleep.

Sorry I forget you.

Let’s hold each other

honest as wind.

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