Beauty

The sun rising over Norwegian mountains, beautiful.
Beautiful, the artillery lancing fire that melts ice
from aspen and the white
phosphorus shells raining flame
in meteoric streaks over the tundra. Beautiful,
the capacity to kill.

Beautiful, our eye-sockets, sunken and hollow,
our dying, beautiful, our flesh turned
filth, skin bloated and dark with rot, beautiful the maggot
life we feed.

Beautiful, panted breath and whispers
in still night air, the crackle of spit
on diamond cold snow, skis
rasping wax over trails
like tunnels through birch
and arms aching with fading
fitness and youth lost in a narrow
funnel of years.

Beautiful the carnal: the crumple of sheets
and sweat flecked skin. Beautiful fuck, the act
and the word.
Beautiful the crumple of forgotten negligees,
salt licked belly and thigh and eyes open
in daylight and darkness. Beautiful our lives.