i find myself longing
to live inside
a sepia toned lithograph
from the civil war
.
you’d be shipped to the mysterious
far off north
while i embalmed bodies
along side Thomas Holmes
my apron covered with
the sins of man
on blood soaked battlefields of the south
.
after a thousand letters written
and lessons learned
you’d come back home to me
with half yourself blown off
so i would decide
as a good woman does
to love you
all the more
.