War I.

I peel the night from its mothers skin: darkness,

 barricade my mouth with smoke like letting

Letting euphoria-filled bodies fall into

A synchronous rest-sleep —slip into reality —

I, prayers by the mouth of a wound. I,

Wound by the mouth of a country. I, country

Beside the open-milky body of water —pour

Into the silence, pour into the noise.

I cast my suffering, atop the brown

Ruin of a war, I sing, in silence

Like lovers, on the verge of death.