not a poem/not a dream

bivouac

he takes me away,
to leave me in another city
where i do not know the way home.

what are you doing?, i ask him,
why do you want me to stay?

he does not speak.

we trudge on,
i, watching him finger the bomb
strapped to his chest,
i, wondering if i should bolt,
take a chance, flee.

he turns, so i see
half his face is gone,
a crater is where his right eye
used to be.

you will save me.
you will save us all.