Protagonist

My husband
takes off his uniform
like he cannot remember
who he is underneath,
as though the bone
and muscle are
unfamiliar;
sometimes I wonder
if his nametag
is all that holds him
together.
In the sock drawer
I do not touch
the star he’s left —
I have seen
what it’s done to
him —
I can only hold
my breath
and in the darkness
of our bedroom
watch the man I love
undress.

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