She pressed her palms against my chest before the taxi came around,
said she wanted to feel my heartbeat so she would know the solid sound,
she did not ask about the mission and she did not ask the odds,
she just held on to the rhythm like a woman holds to God.
I said I would write her every week which lasted maybe four,
and after that the letters got too heavy with the war,
so I sent the lighter things: the weather and the food,
and kept the darker inventory somewhere in my blood.
Come home whole, come home whole,
she said that like it was the only thing she would ever need,
come home whole, bring back your soul,
do not leave the living parts of you out there beneath the weeds,
come home whole, come home whole,
she is at the window every evening counting what I owe,
come home whole, I am trying, God, I am trying to come home whole.
The transport touched the tarmac and I felt the landing hard,
and I counted up the pieces like a man assessing scars,
I had all my fingers and my vision and my stride,
but I left about a quarter of the person that I tried.
She met me at the doorway and she pressed her palms again,
and I let her take the inventory like she had done back then,
she said you feel a little different and I said I know I do,
she said different is not broken and we would work it through.
Come home whole, come home whole,
she said that like it was the only thing she would ever need,
come home whole, bring back your soul,
do not leave the living parts of you out there beneath the weeds,
come home whole, come home whole,
she is at the window every evening counting what I owe,
come home whole, I am trying, God, I am trying to come home whole.