By CL Bledsoe

The look in your eyes, the way you hold me
with their sadness — we’re married, like in old

movies no one watches, grandmother waiting
for a dead man to return from the war, his face,

a box of delicate letters. Nights, holding hands
as the fire dies, quiet except for the sparks. A song

playing in some other room. Time creaking out
in an old rocker. A new name for beauty to distract

from the dying. The circle of your eyes is the ring,
worried on a finger when you’re not near. All of this

has been said before, but darling, I’m home from
the war. It’s Victory in Japan Day. We won. We won.

Stuff My Stupid Heart Likes by CL Bledsoe (co-author of and The Wild Word:

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