When I look in a mirror all I see is you
written across my body like the shadow of a blackbird
which is, of course, your code name. I’ve hidden my gun
in a container of ice cream that’s calling me
insistently as we waltz through a crowd and I pull a key
from inside your jacket and pull away for the dead drop.
And when all I got was two shots to the heart –
well, I knew what kind of dance this was from the beginning
because what kind of person puts themselves in harm’s way
every day, some kind of hero? Who do you think you are?
Sure, you can jump out of a plane or pass the polygraph
while singing my favorite song, the one you sing in the shower
when you think no one hears but I’ve been tracking your moves
and kept the paperwork hidden. All that’s needed now is for someone
to take your badge and call for the burn notice.
Your kiss was always so cold. I didn’t even notice the hollow
ache you left. Let’s dance. You shot me down, bang bang.
One more body from a moving train. It’s time
at last to switch allegiances, identities, change costumes and passports
before I become one more silhouette forgotten, one more asset turned
agent provocateur, blowback from missing your hard target.
Photo by Stefano Corso
