dry oak tree
unlaminated
glistening
curls
a doorway of hesitant circles
low moan followed
clutching spasm
after slowly instantaneous
shattering of limb
her lying still
her turned words
and the darkness
like a sound of horses
growing rising bursting forth
descending out
from limbs and trunk and wind
a rush of wings
threshing of breath
harvest of caught eyes
outcry of blindness
fingers skittering across the stones
braided so deep into
the twist of height
becoming nothing
an arrow
splintering outward
from her break of bended bow
my bleeding temple
streaked across her spattered leaves
stirring against concrete
a new autumnal sound
as I go on
uplifting my destroyed wrist
and clear eyes
Is this the events of you breaking your arm? =]
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