rushing to my aid unwilling explanations force fingers to trace carvings etched in the heartwood of a tree banished from the madness of healing. scratches begin to form on my face and arms whilst standing rooted to its endless dimensions. without room to bear more truth its leaves whisper that skin must bear scars. upon release the overtones of nearby flowers claim right to my nudity and because lightning did not strike, i obeyed their command to rest beneath the scent of their inscriptions.

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