You sit up all night
watching the trenches from
the high road,
pretending that directing
love at the enemy
is helping.
Save your love
for the lovable.
The blood
you’re collecting
on your other cheek
is crusting over
and your gentle smile
is becoming ghastly
and stuck in place.
If you want this
to end, get down
from your lofty perches
and fight where and how
they fight. Fight them
on their ground —
it used
to be yours,
after all.
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