Severance

When our hands locked,

even the ridges and grooves

of our fingerprints

would complement each other -

whorls of mine would anchor

to loops of yours and bring our

life lines so close together that

they'd forget which palm they belonged to.

When our gazes touched,

the lids of our eyes

would save us -

soft skin would form a shingled roof

shielding us from life's hails and bolts

and soon we would be surrounded

by walls of sod and silk

that (somehow) nothing could penetrate.

When our smiles spoke,

the lines on our lips

would murmur riddles

without answers -

riddles like, "what can topple the very thing that

an earthquake cannot shake?"

or "what can burn like lava

and leave no blistering trace?"

I think I know the answers now,

as I watch you pack your bags,

and sling on your rifle

over your camouflage uniform.

I think you know the answers too

as you see my hands tremble

while I try to wipe the dust

off your combat training boots.