why do you hush when the forest screams?
I had to learn so many sounds
all of them are wrong
all that remain is an intuition
that goes every hour of every day
against everything but the trees.
but the trees scream in the forest
she calls for you, too busy being hit
being the scream, vibrating sorrow.
I’m calling you but I’m not convinced
as a ripped branch hanging
I’ll try to tell my wilted leaves
that I love them
And I find myself screaming too.

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