His Foxhole Love

Danielle Pietruszka

Petals fall,

Pierced by bullets,

My poor daisy.


Sunshine choked by smoke.

Her stems stretch outward.

Lucid pools,

Clouded by blood.


Napalm breath and foreign tongue,

Surrounding me.

Desperate to feel,

Petals of silk.

Your stems ache,

Do you see me?


Tunnel rat dreams.

Guns at my back,

Primordial sensation of pain.

My poor darling,

Do you see me?