You by Natalie Crick

I carved your bones
Into a tree.
Discovered you in velvet petals
Powdered with pollen,
White feathers sullied by soil,
Mouth smeared pink with juice,
Seeds shining from tiny teeth,

Suddenly sullen
Inside the wild strawberry plant.

Perhaps my hands offend you.
They nurture sin.
They lose their colour,
Pulled back as skin from Godly grape.
Abandoned,
They spin spider silk,
Stand at the edge
Of a field shivering,
Dark,
Licked to sleep.

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