Well tread paths
fade into the encroachment
of natures tendrils.
Carved edifices stand in silence,
nimble fingers are exposed
as bleached white bone
disconnected from the lives
that gave them birth.
Your face emerges timidly
amongst the ruins.
Collapse crashes in silence,
the flock takes flight
as your nimble limbs
gallop through green
and well covered marble.
An act of instinct
seeking only to preserve
the fleeting gift.
Limbs slow
as focus returns.
A space emptied
then filled once more.
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