bones dreaming of her

The old skeleton grins at me,

Missing teeth, I pulled a few for a keepsake. 

There is a thrill in the air during war 

Like that final moment in our consummation, 

An all-out orgasmic ritual feeling 

As the whole world shakes, and you remain.

I dream of you, at night, during the day

Sometimes I fuck my fist to the thought

Of your soft hair, bright eyes, that moonlit skin,

Christ. 

If I had a choice, I’d come home now

And hold you, entwined with you,

Until I die. 

The skeleton laughs at me

She’ll never love you again after this mud

I aim my rifle at him. He doesn’t move.

The ground rolls with thunder

As the shelling restarts. 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The mud, I imagine, is your wetness

I feel you rising over me, sliding all across me, warm

My desire for you rivals the sheer joy 

Of killing a man, I’ll steal their teeth,

Send you the molars with the blood all stained on, 

Who knows how long it will take to reach you,

Lying on rocks by the sea, watching clouds drift.

The skeleton and I in our little hole

We have our own little ocean,

A small puddle that reminds me of you.

I can’t even hear the shelling anymore,

Only your singing, it swallows me whole

Consuming me until 

I am reduced to little else but lust for you,

I’d fuck you until the rot consumes me.

Leaning forward over the puddle

I can see my reflection.

Oh beauty, oh woman, oh dream,

How can it be, how can I have left

Without seeing you, hearing you one last time?

Staring at me from the puddle is another skeleton.

His white skull, his white bones, his strands of red hair.

It is me. I am the skeleton.

And you are the beautiful woman,

Singing of the glory of war, the glory of man,

Your song was my lullaby, my future

Now all I can hear is the empty wind,

Moving bones along a battlefield long deserted

This wasn’t how it was meant to go,

We were to have children, let them grow and learn

But now I am nothing, and you are everything.

The old skeleton grins at me once more

His mouth is empty of teeth,

A man without flesh is little a man.

You have stopped singing for me, darling

And I no longer dream of you,

He laughs, an empty chattering noise

You are like me now, 

Another dead man, another lost one,

I have been lured to my death, all by you.

Let the mud take me, woman

It has waited longer than you ever did.

Now it hums your lullaby, low and sweet.

I melt into its rhythm.

I become your final verse.