The Dark Bells

The dark bells
of midnight
tolled
for no others --
those were our names
rising forth
from their rusty throats
like small birds
falling from the nest.

My heart turned seaward,
sea-sick from
all the things
I would have to tell you...
My hands
pale knives
that held your face
in the twilight
of our bedroom,
in the turbulence
of our hearts.
My tongue
     (the same tongue
     that kissed you!)
endeavored, with
tiny incisions, successful as paper cuts,
to free you
from my side.
The dark weight of the hour
humming madly
filling my head
with blood
and sorrow
and dread
the executioner's song.

Jewel Kilcher