Annabelle Evans
Hunger
Beneath a tangle of crooked limbs, under bruised twilight,
Trees lean close, listening, I am a trespasser here, in the night,
Tangled arms of a canopy at dusk’s descent,
A lone star treads where moonlit secrets ferment,
Historic rings worn by a cut down tree,
A match to Saturn’s one last plea, free me,
Yet this cut down tree, hid a pattern like ours,
Thumbprints matched rings of memoirs,
Neurons are a tangled forest, through which thoughts wander,
Passing the electrical signals with sonder,
Facts are illiterate,
They just need knowledge to make them less ignorant,
This forest hums in patterns dense and deep,
A symphony that stirs while creatures sleep,
Our bodies orchestrated by laws of our understanding,
An ancient song written in script of the stars granting,
Our skeletons the framework for the most enticing artistry, often embroiled,
Bones, living leviathans, rooting us to our skin, warming us like the blanket of soil,
Through the fractal webs and spiralled dance of light,
You don’t want to see where this creature hides it’s bite,
A hidden cypher, building us through a DNA blueprint,
Our lungs, cracking open a window through the thunderstorm, watching through a tint,
The night sky, like a velvet canvas painted with stars cast as silver seeds,
Carrying the similarities of our lives, intertwined with attention and needs,
A black (w)hole emerges, like a silent mouth devouring the stories of dead stars coerced,
Evolution, the patient sculptor, slowly adjusting the work of art that is our vast tapestry, the universe,
A blood-brain barrier holding thoughts in like the cell wall,
Creating the blood splattering canvas of skin, like a supernova death, the agony of a stars call,
Our mind like an ocean, electric currents swirling of dread beneath the calm waves,
And our hearts are drums, setting the rhythm of life into the grave,
A blood vessel highway connecting the cell cities to their final destination,
Between the search of more, and the abnegation,
As that time trickles through cosmos like water slipping between your fingertips,
You are lost in the dripping, consumed by fear of another eclipse,
A language woven in the rivers flow,
And secrets held where the wildflowers grow,
Survival and desire amalgamated, its aphetic thoughts inward,
Truths that lies in the vacuity of space, never been heard,
The hyper giant star burning trash, all elements too weak to withstand the heat,
We are what we are and all creatures must eat.
