by ale

Tarpaulin heart you cave in – and I want to crumpled up like my chest and press into the wooden floor, ms meager beaver. Before dissolving into the grain, swallowed by eyes of dead barks. Much akin to tissue paper left a slumber for a hundreds years,  until the cellulose loose each other and smouldered remains of fibre makes the whole no longer greater than it’s parts.

Smouldered cellulose from the frigid forest – blades reminding us where we belong.