Black eyes sunk deep in her skull,
certain she knows what will come next.
The trail of scars on her legs read like
an ancient cave painting of where she’s
been and what has followed her here,
her ribs braced against inescapable
shadows, her breath shallow in fear
she might become visible. With no
memory of a better place, it’s not safe,
even a sip of water from a predator, so
I’ll let her rest in a vacuum of cooling
silence, trusting peace to draw her close.
Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
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