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your trunk a sinewed pillar
developing to ranges of roots
exposed
folded
hide coloured
like the feet of flightless birds
your limbs heavy hanging
primal girders
for a confusion of higher canopy
the ground beneath you
packed bare, sun starved
where I stood
when you embraced me
seemed to lower your limbs
in motherly comfort
to my distress
on seeing
essentially
I am what I was born as
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