Vouch

we'll take it long, a shorter route

foraging, sniffles of a cold leaving traces

of an ill humanity skipping over leaves.

Defining circles around stalks and barks

white and chalked in the winter sunlight.

I'll play with you; concaved in my mind

a dent present with you. It seems

you've made a hole. To leave would bleed me dry.

Reviews

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"to leave would bleed me die"

. sheer genius ! ... the rest of the lines too ...