a concussive blast
followed by a brilliant flash.
her pale green eyed gaze
pierced through my armed exterior.
wind curled her long black hair,
cholorform perfume filled the air.
each breath more labored, heavy.
she crept closer, slowly
showering her own precaution.
my vision blurred, circular
and narrow, so narrow.
a pinhole remained as a
last glimpse of earthly light.
her voice hit my neck
such as the cold wind
blown over a frozen lake.
”My love, haven’t you missed me?”
the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth
as she clawed away my soil blanket.
effortlessly, she lifted my lifeless body
carried me through a field
of tall grass and dried wildflowers
where she laid me down
before massive sandstone steps.
my hand ran across their grit.
white weathered doorway,
paint cracked yet clean,
adorned in elaborate garland,
absent of an accompanying structure.
she shook me awake,
smiled as she caught my eye,
looked towards the door,
placed her lips softly upon mine.
life flowed from her lips
throuhgout my body
like warm fresh blood,
giving me enough life to crawl
up the worn steps, to the door
to whatever lies beyond.
she stood, turned away
walked through tall grass
and dried wildflowers.
my eyes never left her form,
she never looked back
before fading into the forest.
Chris Madsen is a former Scout Sniper and US Army Veteran. Read more of his writing here.
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