Angel

As I undo the buttons of your suit,
I find two grenades secured to the clamp around your waistline.
Carefully, I detach them.
“Don’t their make you jittery?”, I ask.
The only answer I get is your smirk.
I guess after years of having grenades slide against your skin, it is meant to turn into a habit.

As I go on removing layers of clothing covering your body, I find things that can knock someone out of their conscience.
I had seen a man bare chested before, but surely never one like you.
The region starting from your thorax to your abdomen resembled a battlefield where numerous wars of different times had been fought.

I touch your scars with my cold hands, only to make you nimble.
You grasp my arm in pain.
You did that every time I touched one of your scars.
I saw pearls of sweat trickle down your forehead and stop by those bushy eyebrows.

I wondered how you must have groaned in pain when the bullets hit you.
There was so much I wanted to know about, but to disrupt the silence we were surrounded with, would mean no less than an offense.
So, I wet a towel in warm water and alcohol to wipe off the sand stuck to your scars.
They seemed to have bled for long.
You might have wanted to scream in agony.

As I leaned forward to tend to a cut on your cheekbone, you caress my hair and
remind me of old times.
You pull me closer and say,
“You’re an angel that I am blessed to have.”
You smile at me from behind all those scars.

Tears gush out form both our eyes.
If only there was someone who knew what we suffered from.
The pain was no less than excruciating, yet we cry in silence.
I take you in my arms. I could feel your tears wet my shirt, and your hand reaching for my hairtie.
When you spoke in hushed tones –
“I like your hair down.”

I could feel the fatigue in your breath.
How softly you slid your hand under my shirt.
It had been so long since I felt those war stricken hands on my skin.
“I have missed you.”
– “I have missed you with my soul, my body and every little thing that I possess”.