You’re the twisting limbs that knot through the forest floor. Cutting through moss like a chore. Watch vultures stand on your jagged edges like a throne. I can still taste the musk in the air. Dampness opens my pores and suddenly, I’m more aware. Every primal instinct floods through my brain as my heart catches on the sound of your voice. I reach for the leaves and remember what makes them poisonous. You painted the latticework of branches to look enticing, dying flowers and all. I stay away from your roots and try to find a sliver of sun, but the darkness always has a way of finding me. Im not sure how long I’ll wander, but at least I can roam freely, even if I trip on twisted limbs along the way. -AMT©️