They created a cult & committed to a code of quiet. They recolonize this broken city with silence. They vowed not even a scream would escape after the explosions screamed through the city—the windswept city’s last song. They reject the individualism of Before & silence the self—like a bell with the clapper removed. They un-name & unmake & so they survive—alone in the ashes & dust. How do the voiceless bear witness? This is the survivor’s story of naming the lost so that it exists.

:::

Dust tornados ‘tween skyscrapers // each empty alley chokes // whirls of wind // they’d sting the skin // so the body shelters // in an old electronics store // waits in a cool dry place // till quiet comes again // then to a rooftop // 10 floors of stairs // to wait the sunset // red crossing the horizon // the purple each day // operatic // another lightness // windows reflect its passing // these silent beauties // dependable & daily // last gift for the living // the mind wants to remember this // for the rest of lifetime // but to worship a past time // is to break // the code // so I write it down // just this once // a small rebellion

The knife’s the quietest way // to silence // another living thing // deer gallop a timpani // the arms pull a trip wire // across the avenue // the body ready // with a knife across the chords // & then the dying is fast // then the fire // then the smoke // have their own sounds // the only ones the ears can love

*

Footprints in street dust // sneakered so silent // they are code followers too // the body followed the tracks // till the body found her waiting // in the hallowed husk // of an old bar // two blue eyes met two brown eyes // two fingers raised to two lips // the sign of hush

She put the hand // over that blooming part // bit the face // these bodies collapsed into each other // words in a howl // I can’t I can’t I can’t // the chords spoken yes // her eyes widened at sound // that spilled from the mouth // she pulled a knife // from a hidden place // sliced the palm // x marks the spot // the hand painted blood // across her cheek // licked it off // she moaned

Now in the quiet of sleep // the hand writes // what it means // this code breaking // these bodies knowing  // when we fuck  // it’s a lasting thing // the hand writes // another rebellion // but this can’t be forgotten

*

These two bodies travel // silencing what animals // last & live in the city // crows hawks deer coyotes rats // the stomachs always ache with hunger // the palm heals // sunsets continue // a certainty // a measurement // now her body is here // with this one // moaning love light // painting theses bodies // human howls must be heard // far & away // breath hard on the ears // arrhythmic aria // ‘til the stars come out // dare to get found // making such cacophony // each place these bodies stop // to rest kill eat fuck love// the finger draws x // in dust or blood

*

These two bodies // found a man sounding // language from the lost times // what a strange thing to remember // the sound of a voice // running like water // down a storm drain // the meanings come back // slow & thick like muddied translation // the man ate a rat // crouched nearly into his fire // & we left him // to his wild talk // with the dead

Later the two bodies lay in dark // fireless & cold tonight // & together say words // rasping whisper // a hinge opening // I say: I am here now // she repeats // I am here now // & she says  // we survive together // & I repeat her words // I am a woman // & I am a woman // & together we mean something // our voices play // a duet in the dark /

I show her my secret writing // & she says to write this too // so it lasts past us // we’re already in deep // she says // so here we are now // surviving // without faith or code // to save us

*

We start talking // just the two of us // & hushed // fingers moving like playing piano keys // with our words // we tell each other // what we remember // after the explosions // when we were both just girls // girls with names // we say what dyings // what spreading emptiness // what impossibility of belief // before meeting the Quiet Ones // before signing the code // what we were // & what we’ve become // we agree // quiet can’t keep out // the silence of a deadened city // quiet can’t keep out loving // but we don’t say those words // we don’t say the words of mothers // instead we promise each other // you’ll be remembered // even just a little longer // after dying // your notes will last & linger

*

The day was thunder // & burning rain // we built a fire in a bank lobby // roasted rats & listened // I caught movement // in smoke shadow // three men speaking ugly vowels // they meant to make rat meat of me // fuck rapists // they didn’t see you // so silent & all // the ax fell // on skull // & knife slid // & knife flew // & all the vibrating life // left them // we waited out the storm // she held me close // hearts slowing down // we listened to rain arpeggio // then left the corpses // to the rats

*

Then the day // she doesn’t come back // the chest knows // there is always a way to die // in this damned city // I can’t go looking for her body // I howl // I can’t I can’t I can’t

*

I hold the knife // point up // & lean over // & beg gravity // to bring me down // gravity disappoints

*

Undust the mirror // see the face that is // say it // it’s I // it’s X // survivor // alone

*

Now each life I take // I carve an X there // call it by its name: a signature

*

The stomach hungers // this is what it is to be human // this need & proof // of being // undeniable as the final quieting

*

I write // this testament // to the time // the body I survived // & yes loved // to name something makes it real // this chest beats its hereness // these words remember this fact

X

:::

She cannot deny the world composes itself. She listens & is human a little longer.