Trembling

All the papers had excellent names.
Gods and heroes formed in chalk and ribbons.
You could tell someone had been telling it.
The way the cracked glass bit your lip for a sip.
That perfect trickle of crimson into absolute whiteness.
I was just a sound that was lost among victims.
Once more, crushed beyond recognition.

When you discover the ghosts I left for locks,
one key is better than any skeleton.
Opening only cages containing the anonymous dead.
They who have nobly been my tongue, my heart.
These spiders at the ends of my arms are weaving
My kisses into walls and wars, bombs and blades.
Something cuts right through the appointment.

And the last child fell from the war, into the womb.

Rising beyond altitude.