yuri-shwedoff-wolf-pack-internetThe saw they used
had teeth like rabbits unaware
they were herbivores
her shell broke
like a blue egg
on turpentine floor
for the ants to summon
their legions and devour
she could smell her own fall
by the pinch of their envy
though why anyone should
be jealous she found absurd
as plates will chip
when placed on top of one another
we leave the best for last
scouring her hide with vinegar
all the holy and the ivy
thrown in pyre to await
her defeat
she tried to tell them
it’s not me you want
it’s yourselves
the competition is within
I am nothing
but a representation
the dreaming void
or lost moon
reflecting your own
do not bury me with nightshade
violet on my tongue
strangle my words
because you have none
this time will come again
as all circles are undone and reknotted
by fate and the scepter
in the wrists of those
cutting down
trees who only seek
that silence of being above
cacophony of rude arrows
felling our roots
though we strive
to master ourselves