On a clear day I see them 

                      glower above the island— 

           where clouds gang

& planes disappear 

           into the disappointment 

of buildings below. 

                      The blades raze through the sky, 

           returning the sun 

with their mirrored faces—We’re coming for you, 

they say, 

           & when I fling open my window, 

                      they enter my skin 

with howling precision: 

                                 Holes & holes & holes. 

           How many letters to fill a breach? 

How many tongues? 

           I was only a small girl 

when he licked my face in the dark. 

                      Only a small girl 

when I learned the mores 

of silence.                 It’s said there are no words 

for certain things— 

                                 For bodies held, 

                                            & down 

                                            & limbs. 

But the words fly out, all around 

                      they are pouring, 

                                            garlands, ribbons 

           We’re coming for you, 

they say—                           I was only a small girl 

when I learned the mouth is a home 

for blades. 

                      Only a small girl 

when he came for me.