We live on others.
We make our peace
With necessity
By telling ourselves
They’ll live on in us.
It’s unsurprising
We’ve dreamed up stories
In which vampire bats
And nightjars transform
Into shapes we like.
We’re always restless,
Hungry in our way,
Planning an ambush
Of something to say.
We invented brains,
Zombies to crave them,
Heroes to outwit
The zombies with brains.
We’re storytellers
And zombies ourselves.
We have so much love
For those we consume.
After all, we’re them,
Their doubles, their souls.
We’re words. We’re their worlds.
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