you say

I watch him hold the new girl he’s been seeing,

talk shit with his buddies,

they’ve all got kids at their exes house,

he’s not a baby anymore,

I know, I forget, I know.

for the next month,

each embrace will be weighted with subtext,

“see you when you get back.”

but they know.

they do not forget, they know.

it is 2am at the bar,

when he realizes it is our turn.

he buries his face into my shoulder

where he has always been safe -

don’t tell anyone, I’m so scared.

the sergeant, my baby brother.

I tell him he will be fine, and to run, to leave his men, but he will be fine.

you’ll be bored, you’ll play cards and sing horrible pop covers.

these are the things you say.

you say but you don’t know

but you say them anyway,

because

because.

they take our babies, you know.

they take our babies.