Friendly Fire by Lannie Stabile

I’ve given this poem a secret breath
between and behind the lines of enemies
Crisp and autumn
Crass and autonomous
There was hunger in our very lungs

Slithering into aching akimbo arms
we swallowed each other whole, like eggs

Easter has never been a good month for us

Eternity dripped into misplaced scars
Your teeth are still there, lodged
beside the finest set of flannel lies
A case of mistaken fidelity

I’ve always wondered who the hell you were

Bustling memories, bigger than a bread box
Scores of questions bare once shrouded fangs

Betrayal is a language of love
spoken by dragons and hares alike
Mishaps with limbs
Misshapen, but limber
Our pulmonary poetry fails to protect


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