Patches of Red - Learning English

Patches of Red - Learning English
 
i
She fingers his scribbled words staining the back of the withered Polaroid
he must have kept in his wallet since graduating from boot.
In it, his camo clung to her blood red dress,
he pressed two fingers into her spine at the small of her back,
cradled the back of her head, smelled and kissed her hair,
the curve of her ear, the corner of her lips, the hollow of her collarbone.

She stretched her neck to reach his love, soon to be absent from her life,
strained a smile, a nod, a farewell, and waved at the military plane window
she hoped he was behind waving back.



ii
Her blood red dress swirls the night,
engaging the heavens in a feverish, barefoot ballet.
Feet frozen raw in the snow banks,
the dancer twirls in lustful pirouettes,
the folds of her dress billowing
like an ethereal rose in full bloom.

The wolf cry of a weary traveler pierces the stillness,
his howl lamenting a shadowy loss.
The dancer spreads her lips to wail with the wolf;
they sing in unison to the haloed moon,
sorrow etched in the facets of their chorus.

Sealed shut by an inexplicable pain,
her eyes leak tears that frost her face,
topping her cherry-pink cheeks with snow dust caps.
Sorrow bobs her throat from the pain of
absence from her lover's warm embrace.



iii
This woman is me.
I am her, she is me, and he is you.
I watch my dance from afar – from outside my head, my body, my heart –
a ritual performed by the strings of empty love.
And then, your hand appears on my hip, and your lips come to rest
on the curve between my shoulder and neck,
your teeth nipping my skin red to match the blood dress.
We dance.

I love the way your medals chink and sing against your jacket buttons,
unheard melodies of your heart and a past fought and won.
I love the way you took the place of a man when you were but a boy,
and became a brother to our nation – a serviceman respected.
I love the way you gave me the honor of watching you serve,
and despite the mourning – or perhaps because of it –
you are the one thing of which I am most proud.

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