Lonely Deep Affection

years of  practice for a soft

        landing in the slaughter

                we looked far off to

             a flag sewn into flesh

dear enemy come down the

     hill I have taken a title out

of  the love for you jumping

     down the clear shaft of  your eye

      you would not know how long I

      paused when writing this unless

             I said so in the poem

              half an hour staring

              at the pencil having

      written of  my enemy with

      love and fight to maintain

                            the ascension

                            voices from a

                            room no one exits

                            we pry genocide out

                            of  the museum but

                            meant to remove

                            the museum

                            from genocide