war zone

my hands are
flamethrowers.

i could have fought you,
but instead i produced a
white flag
and together we painted it
red.

***

all along the international date line
flowers were blooming from miniature
window boxes.

we carefully allotted ourselves
rations
but they were devoured
by the constant
changes in time.

***

your finger
in my belly
button
as gentle as

a grenade pin

pulled out
quietly
into a place
where silence rings out
like shellshock.