Clinging To The Trees Of A Forest Fire They Smeared Shit On Their Skin So They Could Blend In At Night
The smeared shit on their skin so they could blend in at
night I can hear them howling.
I can feel their footsteps all over my soft spots.
Years of degeneration.
The hell of a cold world surrounded by starving wolves.
She sleeps soundly in our cave while I try to dig my way
out of it.
Trapped on the inside of my soft spots.
