The Final Bones

Trust me,
I am all bone.

My blood was drunken
By the sun. My skin
Stripped long ago.
I tremble and clatter,
An inception of matter,
Always alone.

Thin and hard,
What is given slips through me,
A thing unending,
Like sea and stone.

Like solitude and wake.
Acorn and

Trust me,
I am nothing, but creak,
Dead wood and moan.

Believe me, lay me down;

Leave me for the dirt, for the
Insects, birds, moss and weed to
Grip hard and roam.

Trust me,
All has long left me.

You are forgiven.

All is forgiven.


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