"No Letters Came"
No letters came, though I waited—
by the soft blue glow of our last late call,
your name still inked in my screen’s memory,
a soldier of want,
not love,
after all.
You touched down nightly
like air raids—sudden,
urgent,
gone by dawn.
We kissed in code,
half-typed and unsent,
our tenderness
already withdrawn.
I gave you warmth
like a war bride might—
half-hope, half-heart,
all rationed light.
But you were never coming home,
were you?
Just marching through
for one more night.
Lust, I learned,
is a cruel commander—
and I,
a foolish nurse to wounds
you never meant to heal.
Next time,
I'll wait for the one
who brings flowers,
not fire.