Life not lived
in still stance
glued to my tree like altar
dreaming of what could of been
roaming the Serengeti scorched trails
my flesh beating
jungle drums blaring
head high in a roof of galant green

alas the realness of reality revertebrates into my cold expanse
I am but a statue of beauty crafted
hands of my maker smooth but firm
as they caressed my curves
connected in that memorable moment
standing still in ticking time
ever eternal
state static