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 -- ╴╴╴ http://darkshadows.org/~skyhawk :: dale@dal.net ╴╴ ╭——╮╭╭—╮╭—╮╮╭—╮╮╭——╮╭╮╮╮╭╭—╮｜ │ │││ ││ │││ │││ │││ ││ │∣ poetry@ptt.cc ╭╮╰╯│ —╯╭╮ ││ ││ ││ ││ —╯∣ Atheism@ptt.cc │ ││ ││ ││ ││ │││ ││ │｜ skyhawk@ptt2.cc ╰——╯╰╰—╯╰——╯╰—╯╯╰—╯╯╰—╯╯╰╰—╯｜ --

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