From the Pentagon

He brings me chocolate from the Pentagon, dark chocolates shaped like tanks and fighter jets, milk chocolate tomahawks, a bonbon like a kirsch grenade, mint chocolate bayonets. He brings me chocolate ships, a submarine descending in a chocolate sea, a drone unmanned and filled with hazelnut praline. He brings me cocoa powder, like chocolate blown to bits. Or chocolate squares of pepper heat. Or if perhaps we've fought, he brings a box of truffles home, missiles of semisweet dissolving on the tongue. He brings me Glocks and chocolate mines, a tiny transport plane, a bomb that looks delicious in its cellophane.