Death, call your first witness.  What stories
will you tell;  how what you bury you bury
forever?  All night the mouths of stones
keep your secrets, the eyeless sky hides
her cries in the folds of her hair.  Even
Earth whose arms are filled with worms
and beetles keeps its silence.  But somewhere,
in a dark, quiet space the size of a jar
there are no victims.

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