Leopards and Ravens

This is a cold and lonely place.
So when sun goes down in a forest,
and the shadows all tell stories of wonder and awe,
place your hand in the last ray.
And breathe.
Breathe with the leopard that fled a pointed gun.
With the raven that survived a city burn.
And outrun a fatal flaw.

Pack light.
The kingdom in your head, pain in your shoulder and smile in your bag.
Spare a magic trick.
Make the bone in your body crackle a song.
The scissors that you used to trim your stories up,
let’s throw that in the bonfire.
Burning woods made out of left out laughter.
This is my last dream.
The first I dreamt in my mother’s womb.
It was of a leopard who fled a pointed gun.
A raven that survived a city burn.

Now I wonder.
Is Ma the leopard…
Or the raven?
What have I become?
The leopard?
Or the raven?

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