I was crushed by a forty-foot man. I didn't understand. I didn't see his hand.
I saw the cracks in the palm of his hand, as he squashed my head, as the soulless giant said…

I was lost in the cruelest of realms, when I saw your print and the little drops of ink,
that you left by the side of the road, where the elephants rode, where the orphan birds were sold.

I will follow your scent to the end, to the end of this page, to the start of my old age.
And when the souls in the know concur, I will eat your stress and we'll be done with this mess.