The Edge of February
Kiss me.
Kiss my lips on in the no man's land between warring trenches.
Roll me in rhe barbed wire killing fields among the mud and the mines.
Hold me until the smoke clears.
Kiss my eyes while we are enclosed the bones of an abandoned church.
Nuzzle my neck among the whispering dead; the tombs and headstones of those who fell before we did.
Hold me until the fog clears.
Grip the swell of my hips in a fox hole full of shrapnel.
Shout my name into a sky full of searchlights.
Write your vows in the breaths between bullets.
Tell me you'll love me forever on a desserted beach full of crushed sea shells in the middle of February
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