By Keisha-Gaye Anderson

Where are the soldiers?

Where are my brothers
to brace me
against
these torrents of shattered glass
that bury our past
name this body according to its yielding
and bend love backward into hate
because the swarm cannot
take the earth’s heartbeat?

No electric embrace
No battle hymn serenade
No midnight map passed
between perfumed breath
No rest
on this journey
a road cleared only by
machete tongue
strong backs
heart compass
and three eyes

We arrive
each season
scraping through the dark
to quiet our screaming blood
echoes of bodies broken
in our making
solely for the taking
of this blue fire
now damned to ditches
where we consume ourselves
push up plumes
of liquor breath
lotto tickets
pills to silence every
djembe drum ripple
whispering to us from the edges
of the rainbow

But we know that this
frigid air circling our confusion
flickering lights in rooms
of seclusion
are love letters
from all the muted voices
rattling this mind
with pleas insistent
and piercing
like jagged bones
in the abyss
of the Atlantic

And they become my eyes
strangers’ eyes in every mirror
making me long to know
who speaks this mouth today
who talks behind the curtain of sleep
saying

Remember
Remember
Remember

But I only wade into slumber
and wake to face
the cold
feed the mouths
stay alive

How long do I have
to armor my heart
walk both sides
prop up my pride
and give everybody
everything that I am?

Where are the soldiers?