Collateral Damage

Your eyes are inflamed like collateral damage
and I can see the cities in you falling like rain.

I don’t know who started this war between us,
but it’s happened now and the damage
is too deep in my veins for excavation.

Across the war zone of our bedroom,
every breath between us smokes like carnage
until not even the white flag of my tears can be seen.

© Keighley Perkins

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About handshedown

Keighley Perkins is a Cardiff-based poet whose influences include Anis Mojgani, Selima Hill and Richard Brautigan. Her work has previously been published in "Acumen", "Elbow Room", "Erbacce", "Fire", "Northwind" and "Obsessed with Pipework". She can also be found online on Twitter at @handshedown. View all posts by handshedown

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