For wars older than me

days went by on screen

like turned pages of a book 

you read long ago,

memories you didn't let go

like the sweet taste of escaping

and getting to the end of a nightmare.

it wasn't long ago you still felt young.

you saw her through the car window

like you didn't,

like something turned true

without even mattering.

nights like this that get to you

like the smell of gasoline or

stale vomit in an old carpet,

words you've always wanted to use

when the eyes couldn't hide.

it grew tight

and tighter in relation to life,

the life felt on impressions of ink,

the rough texture of paper like skin,

the outer covering of that much hope,

strength and love.