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the familiar grip of a chainsaw a quick snap of the wrist awakens the beast hungry for a visceral vivisection violent, vivid, vital in nature and vying for more. hand finish what fumes and metal teeth cannot pulling the young body of pine to stoop and kiss the skin of the earth. i traced my fingers across the edges of your spine. i counted 7. no, 8. 8 rings. 8 years. what is my primate life worth? how many rings are etched on my soul? what color is the sap pouring through my veins? could i ever be worth a tree could a tree ever be worth me? my confessions rain like the needles from your hair. i know now that Nature's love exists without man. my mother always told me that god rested on sundays. i always thought that was funny. instead, she weeps.
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
8 years; or, on watching the death of a child.
the familiar grip of a chainsaw a quick snap of the wrist awakens the beast hungry for a visceral vivisection violent, vivid, vital in nature and vying for more. hand finish what fumes and metal teeth cannot pulling the young body of pine to stoop and kiss the skin of the earth. i traced my fingers across the edges of your spine. i counted 7. no, 8. 8 rings. 8 years. what is my primate life worth? how many rings are etched on my soul? what color is the sap pouring through my veins? could i ever be worth a tree could a tree ever be worth me? my confessions rain like the needles from your hair. i know now that Nature's love exists without man. my mother always told me that god rested on sundays. i always thought that was funny. instead, she weeps.
donovan
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
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