Lonely Deep Affection

years of  practice for a soft landing in the slaughter we looked far off to a flag sewn into flesh dear enemy come down the hill I have taken a title out of  the love for you jumping down the clear shaft of  your eye you would not know how long I paused when writing this unless I said so in the poem half an hour staring at the pencil having written of  my enemy with love and fight to maintain the ascension voices from a room no one exits we pry genocide out of  the museum but meant to remove the museum from genocide