Smoke, Part 2

i breathe in the smoke
of the scented log fire,
and taste its hints
of chocolate

i blow on
the crisped white
of the candied gob
as it blackens on my
wooden poker

and death
comes to my mind
again
the twisted, innocent corpses
of war

my wife
kisses my cheek
as i let the thoughts
pass
like an unhealed wound
rebandaged

i eat my marshmallow
and forgive myself