Lonely Deep Affection

years of  practice for a soft
        landing in the slaughter
                we looked far off to
             a flag sewn into flesh
dear enemy come down the
     hill I have taken a title out
of  the love for you jumping
     down the clear shaft of  your eye
      you would not know how long I
      paused when writing this unless
             I said so in the poem
              half an hour staring
              at the pencil having
      written of  my enemy with
      love and fight to maintain
                            the ascension
                            voices from a
                            room no one exits
                            we pry genocide out
                            of  the museum but
                            meant to remove
                            the museum
                            from genocide