My god lives in the woods
the light in a bird's eye
my breath as I suck it in
swimming in the ice cold water
looking up to a clouded sky.
The pounding rhythm of my heart
as I run up a hill searching
for that bird that just flew over me.
Death is stillness
the end of movement
as the body chokingly ceases to be
no air, no blood
bones turn to soil
to trees ripping upward
challenging the sun.
I find it under my feet
walking on your back, your blood
filling me to my fingertips
all the marks in the world
cannot capture so ethereal a thing
as what you once were
like the bird shadow
that crosses my face
and leaves the page empty
of its song.

-By the Corbyhawk herself