I gain you
As
I gain land.
I gain
The soil
In my solid hand.
I stir the wasteful bits
Of one leader’s flesh
That was written there
Of his name
In where I stepped,
Then stepped, again.

The soldier romances the war,
While the tulip’s petals
Dance with his tears.
All droplets
Are from a fallen storm.
Grief
Un-ends
Terrible unison
To them.

Lies are placed on the crown,
Still as truth.
Truth is placed on the flesh,
Said to be a lie.

I weep
In thunder that burns no trees.
I create castles
From bones.