I watch dead birds dance
around the campfire.
Their chirps sound like thousands of years ago.
I can feel it working.
The coyote's rhythmic panting
conforms to my heartbeat.
Bedridden is given to the gods as a sacrifice.
But I need to find my body...
The warmth from the ashes and timber
combined with the midnight air
massages and entangles my hair.
The body I have is is fading...
My eyes are pulling me back
the wind hushes my cries.
The mountains weigh me down.
Breathing is no longer an issue...
Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 11:19 PM UTC
I watch dead birds dance
around the campfire.
Their chirps sound like thousands of years ago.
I can feel it working.
The coyote's rhythmic panting
conforms to my heartbeat.
Bedridden is given to the gods as a sacrifice.
But I need to find my body...
The warmth from the ashes and timber
combined with the midnight air
massages and entangles my hair.
The body I have is is fading...
My eyes are pulling me back
the wind hushes my cries.
The mountains weigh me down.
Breathing is no longer an issue...
