to the navy boy
who comes home a novelty
shiny things pinned to his chest
crisp and complete
a perfect machine
the ooh of the relatives and loved ones
the goo of their speech dripping from his
uniform like a soft rain of applause
“we missed you so…”
“we worried so…”
“Back to us at last…”

you have traded your soul
for your country
and I have traded my pride
for my soul

is it true
all women are healers
and all men are killers
perfect in their need for each other?


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