We cannot walk in meadows
I kick aside rubble in the shelter.
Shrapnel from incendiaries plays a piano tune
on the outside walls. I think we are safe here.

My unit has instructions to leave us alone.
We have one blanket held up by rifles at both ends.
That is our privacy. I have yearned to shed
my camo and touch your hardened body.

I promise not to cry during our sex except inside
as I plunge through your open uniform, or to think
‘what if we survive’, it is the metronome in my head
that I pinch like exterminating lice.

We exist in silence. I think of you. I feel hot
when I touch you. I keep inside the fortress.
I feel our bodies prowl the secret alleys,
cleansed of the trash, returned to the peace.