i find myself longing

to live inside

a sepia toned lithograph

from the civil war

.

you’d be shipped to the mysterious

far off north

while i embalmed bodies

along side Thomas Holmes

my apron covered with

the sins of man

on blood soaked battlefields of the south

.

after a thousand letters written

and lessons learned

you’d come back home to me

with half yourself blown off

so i would decide

as a good woman does

to love you

all the more

.