In Battle

Silent bikes on 3rd Avenue
newspapers wet as salamanders
Thick slaps of gunfire
Trembling hands of my grandmother
As she slipped the lock into its bed
And kissed the eyehole goodnight
I thought
As I had never thought

A dream rended
is life
A half-dream exposed to elements
A life half-slept
Half-awake
Halved
Into haven’t and have
I thought
As I had never thought

Peace in the free crying of a child
Peace in brewing cocoa smells and roasting vegetables
Peace in existing loudly and stinking
I thought
As I had never thought
Of my time with you

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