horatioalone: (Default)
L ([personal profile] horatioalone) wrote2023-10-09 05:24 pm

We

He keeps his clothes on when we fuck—
boots, gloves, and epaulettes—
and sighs so sweetly when I touch
the medals on his chest.

We lie together hand in hand
beneath the falling snow.
A shadow glides above the trench:
the wingspan of a crow.