Army Man

The black half moons
under your  eyes and
the brownness of your
skin testify to five
years of Army  travelling

and your  fingers are thick,
cuticles cracked
and split, nails pitted
with the black of a
tradesman's labour, hard labour and
hard trade

and how  your self brims over -
full and yearning
with love to give; to
give, with love to get; to
receive in return - your lack is
mine your  plight
my  own.

Such a  human-ness, a warmth
in you  for the giving and the
taking and you lay
it all at my feet -
spread  for my delight, my needs
and you  plead with me
to go your  way

but I cannot indulge for you -
you  have neither
an neither angel face nor the
charm  which I require
and knew  on another's arm -

this: always my
dilemma,  the downfall of a
woman   to let go
the ugly man  warm and  kind
loving and giving

to cleave to
a  beauty always cold and hard: the
feigning and disdain
of youth  where self
is proclaimed, where love
is never truth.

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