LOVE IN THE BUNKER
Inside the concrete bunker he made love
to her. The low, rectangular secluded den
was open to the night on either end,
but they were shielded from the moon above.
The generator for the radio room
concealed their shouts, and when she whispered sweet
sweet nothings in his ear, he couldn’t complete
the sentences it was so loud. But soon
the sand that needled at his hands, elbows,
and knees was like the prickly heat that came
midday, a pain from thirst, an itching pain
that paints the skin from inside out somehow.
And in two hours’ time the sun would strain
his heart through sieves of heat again, again.
- Date January 14, 2016
- Tags LOVE IN THE BUNKER