211. War

Be selfish.
Dig into him
with your bare hands.
The sky will be red
no matter which path
you choose.
Cover your knuckles
in little plums
and do not apologize.
Not everyone wants
the olive branch,
least of all you,
you cold sad thing,
living on animal
instincts. Let the winter
turn your bones
into steel. Do not stop
for anyone, do not
turn back, for risk
of snapping your neck.
Bury it. Do not come back
until spring.