I was walking in the woods
I was followed by your ghost
Your the girl that I had drowned
Face down in my blood

You drank in the spit that I sprayed upon the floor as a texture to paint feelings upon a wall of ribs of a calf to grate your skin and my skin together
An alloy of animas

We shall carve with your cold faded hand into the knot of a heart wood forever in this copse
Wriggling to corpse in
Dead in the soil
Our wedding bed

Flaky shaky and spineless
As we should have been

We've always been the molded crown lining the ceiling watching others live.

The pine mounts the ground
To behead us.
We finally accept and egress towards the detritus floor
The needles shaking as we quake ever closer to the firmament ground where we were born
Becoming the fungus we love so dear
You're my slime mould