The briar tangle of your gut,
clawed and tearing –
your lungs, full of bronchioles
that branch like an oak tree,
all those blood vessels, fine as roots,
neurones twisting and tangling –

The wild wood lives in you.


Day 23 of Jilly’s Unreason Challenge

23: “His mind’s all black thickets and blood”   from Songs of Unreason

9 thoughts on “Wildwood

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