‘If thou must love me, let it be for naught
except for love’s sake alone.’
(Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
Ethnically cleansed through love,
when all about them hate of generations
raged, they held hands while
clenched fists threatned.
Amid the rubble that was Bosnia
a sniper waited, dispassionately.
Don’t discriminate.
Kill.
In the distance two figures.
Aim for the larger target first.
Squeeze the trigger.
Got him.
Now the other.
She’s bewildered,
distraught, crying.
Got her.
What’s this?
She’s crawling toward him.
She’s reached him.
Don’t waste another bullet.
It’s time for lunch.
“Lime trees are blooming
everything is as it was before,
only your heart and my heart
aren’t in love any more”
