A Soldier's letter to his lover

I don’t remember the Mississippi river and its warm sand
What I think is, will the sand of your eyes touch my body again?
the black cat in my house
can step in to your bed
he doesn’t drink
but he sits on the sofa and listens
to your songs when you are in the kitchen or the bath

It’s his voice that comes from the gateway
And you close the door behind him
Frequently in the day

He goes to the park with you and on the bench
he licks your fingers
and you massage his neck muscles
he gets calmer when he receives the pain from your fingertips

Jardinières that we bought
harm their flowers when we are out
and if we don’t open the windows
rooms spread their poison


It’s called Helmand,
a wilderness which thousands of stars illuminate at night
and the days
the sun is as hot as I can hear my blood
boiling in my veins
In the verge of the wilderness, hard men are living
and women who are moving like ghosts among the corn fields
they even hide their faces
in front of sunflowers

Men fall in love with these ghosts
and when they are invited to holy war
they Leave them alone with sad songs on the fields
the women pass the time by looking and touching the herbs
they are sad
like you kiss my photo in the mornings
they don’t have their men’s photos when they are upset
they work like you, but in the sunny fields
which belongs to the snakes as well
they also take care of children herds

they work hard in the fields
which are planted mines by their lovers
and they like details of life like you
and like your house, love is like a mist everywhere in their fields