when the forest spat me out,
the river licked me clean,
and i found that i'd chafed my skin against the pebbles
it had for teeth,
when the sun's enflamed tongue,
colored me brown,
the earth reached up to embrace me,
dark as the mud and half as soft,
as when i'd let the water swallow me
YOU ARE READING
tyrants
Poetrythe kind of love i've been dreaming of 2018 - 2023 #29 in poetry, 2nd april 2023 #56 in prose, 23rd may 2019 #16 in non fiction, 6th april 2023
