terrarium art

Bear. Bones sheath skin that barely knows itself. Coming to terms with what is, under sheets of what is not. In humbled greetings, bent backed… Tired. . .Grateful. . .Pensive. 

I am more than parts of the alphabet put together in the callous rhythm of My Name.
Am I.

The fugitive inside me scampers in distress, as insides smoke a clear poison of Truth.Truth.

I am smaller with this dying all around me.  Recoiled and revealed in sweet syllables of calming sadness. The wound breaks outward in grief. Raw.

So raw it hurts. The observant tilt their heads, gauging the difference. Toes remember last scrapings of leaving earth in nails. Arms comb through breeze, of Earth and still Unearthly. Floating.

I taste mud between my teeth, filling up the empty slots where lies once cavitied my gum. I am flying.

Changing. Moving. Grieving un-tethered.

Shifting pebbles in this terrarium. 


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