Behind The Crimson Rock

The outlines of a city used and discarded.
Concrete blown and torn apart,
black smoke and the smell of war is all I can taste.

I see a woman in the middle of the town centre.
Her red dress cling to a body worn and spent.
She holds no emotions anymore.

Her legs tremble at the thought of walking,
her hands afraid of grasping.
No longer will she dance, no longer will she laugh.

This city is a dessert.

I hide behind a rock colored crimson,
it reaks of lives lost.
My eyes water as they scan her face.

Her hair was once thick and shining.
Her lips once kissed and admired,
and I feel like her heart was once beating for love.

I want to reach out to her.
I want to remind her of the human touch,
an alternative to the cruelty of steel.

I imagine she would smile, uncertain at first.
Our hands carefully grasping.
I imagine our eyes perfectly aligned, looking for answers.

The war would surround us.

I imagine us kiss.
Dry, frightened lips colliding.
Our bodies remembering the rush of lust.

I imagine love conquering war.