Photo by Catalin Pop on Unsplash
Me, Earth,
The illness, a farmer
Tilling with desperate hands to plant.
More sickness? Something bountiful?
My body, the illness, holes, pieces of me in its mouth,
Rotten? Wholesome?
Both wrap themselves around its teeth.
Me, Tree, wood,
The illness, a hatchet, a drill
Who am I if my body does not exist?
Who am I if my body does exist?
Who am I?
About the Creator
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