We –
A month I neglected to
look at
you –
you begged me –
like without my eyes
you don’t
exist.
You’re dressed
in black
T-shirt, jeans,
broad shoulders
fill out your leather jacket.
You look un-ironed
Your hips
slim slipped
into black jeans
with white knees faded.
Your stomach – guarded.
Below your sternum:
A soldier wound –
A gaping – blown
apart, cavernous hole.
I know it exists.
Seen your action man eyes
Twitch – slide side to side-
Like the boy
flicked the switch
at the back of
your head.
Heard your
high pitch
scream turn
to long loving
howl
evokes
sympathy
and awe at your
hidden plight.