treasonous comfort

hammers and nails
you dismantle the wooden city around my heart
you’ve pierced the watchmen with your arrows
you’ve disconcerted the populace in the quiet hour of midnight
joists and wooden joints fall
creak and groan to the ground
burn in the later hour of bon fires
illuminate the faces of you
warmth for your encampment
resting outside tents
my own moss to cushion the sleep of your calvary
submission to the invader
my own love molten in the iron of your shield


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