War

I could tell you

of the forests destroyed

of awakening in the surly dream

seeing glimpses of my hands

still locked outside the walls

of the war I can't remember

I could tell you

of how the air rushes out

over the face of moving water

as the gods bear us away

but I suspect you already know

we had arrived to capture the first light

green reeds singing in the wind

red mud staunched the riverbanks

the tourniquet idly set

our shadows growing with our knives

tongue stained by a jagged language

breached by the tepid rays of black suns

if only I could say it, the words

my voice, the crackling of cauterized skin

our torches snuffing out like neurons

one by one in the night

as we lashed out into our memories

how in time the words return

and I remember those who died of rage

at the foot of the door