This was May

And it is me
the sharp edges
the cold
desolate
my colors forlorn
there we are.

We are exactly were we want to be,
exactly!

Months later, a certain ordinary evening, a strip of light on the western horizon, just yesterday
the abundance of bones and backstrap, even flanks are glorious
knives being sharpened, that sound
If i only knew my self this intimately.
You know how big a liver is? Much larger then our large heart. Softer too.
And the toughness, so much beautiful smooth toughness in me too.

Ah and i whine i whine that certain needs no matter its abundance are not met.

I don't why so much pain over little things, why i dive into that pain and find nothing, just tears.
Waterfalls of it. Puddles, ponds, lakes full.

You know how much water a mountain holds?
 I don't, but i know it is a lot
a lot more then these few tears

Please, know my needs.

If i can't understand, maybe you can understand me.