In a tree grove
sitting amongst the leaves and twigs
fallen from their tree above
The dead limbs fallen to the winds
and the hunger I see upon my skin
crawling upon my legs
In small instances
the hunger flees and returns upon me
as I hold my self between death and life
The life about this ended growth knows
not my laws or the deadly maw awaiting those
engaged in corpses as feed
In my eyes' refraction
no beast or winged creature comes to feast
upon the cracklings beneath and falling
No, it is only I that I can see
Amongst the leaves and twigs and trees
solely shaded against the light.
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