tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180720022011-04-21T14:08:46.148-07:00by Daniel FeinbergAnoreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18072002.post-1129790146974359452005-10-19T23:32:00.000-07:002005-10-20T02:26:00.376-07:00.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />She says my nom de guerre. <br />Her finger slices across the skin of her neck.<br /><br />You’re dead and you’re mine.<br /><br />Truths foreplay a lie.<br />We soft target each other, not barely. <br /><br />I break cover in her mouth. <br />These are my front lines. <br /><br />We can’t stop the world, so we postpone it <br />with wounds licked clean and clear. <br />Somewhere missies look for other missiles.<br />Light flashes off her armor lying on the living room rug.<br /><br />I debrief. <br />I loose cannon. <br />I mark something inside we can’t read.<br />Our salvation is death, but not this one.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18072002-112979014697435945?l=crushpoems.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Anoreply@blogger.com0