This worldly beauty once
belonged to me: I slept,
I breathed, I loved, I hurt;
the body of this dream
will not release its tenant
soul so readily. I take
my starving heart, my damaged
will, my shackled ankles to
the secrecy of woods, broken hills.
They will not remember, call me
faithless, fugitive as shy among
the watchfull-ness of wolves.
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