My Soldier

I note down a calm, anecdotal kiss I note down a verb, given and chaotic the kind that strikes taut nerves amidst absurd vanities the pulse never falls silent for a minute nor does the flow of thoughts I note it down so the mind won't forget I note it down so memory won't fail me and if it does, that I might remember I note the drive found in momentary disadvantage in the exchange of venous and arterial blood even if, in the end, they are much the same the pulse that never stops and cries out for life is more—with or without drama I note my soldier—redeemer and tormentor who fiercely both wants me and doesn't this blessed, cursed time that tears me apart without mercy or pity if I look back, it smiles; if I look ahead it calls: come, my love, my hateful one, come come, for I want you in my bed this blessed, cursed time that tears me apart without mercy or pity if I look back, it smiles; if I look ahead it calls: come, my love, my hateful one, come come, for I want you in my bed