whatever is true comes out in the right light
with each stroke, the hand effortlessly relinquishes its color*
There are some small insects, that graze the land
in search of other kinds of insects,
to hunt,
and ****,
and lay their eggs inside of.
These insects are like myself,
as I hold each life in my own hands,
for the future of my kind.
Some apes cruise the treetops,
to fight their own, and eat them whole,
to howl with their best.
There are those who eat the dead,
swarming in the waters, to consume
what is already gone.
In this world, nothing survives
that does not take, exactly what it can get.
In this world, nothing does not have a purpose,
that does not really live.
Fall 2014