You, Me: We and Our Tiger

There is a forest

A dim forest full of dusky trees and damp moss

Tiny critters that scuttle about

Weaving in between the roots of dying oaks and already dead birches

The only ones who step foot in this forest have been filled to the brim with the bittersweet nectar that death himself does create, every step they take rots their feet and crawls into their soul to settle and take over like a white man in a foreign village

That is a forest

A catastrophic forest coughing up a cacophony of past consumptions of time




One million miles away, across the stars

There is a jungle

An illuminated jungle flooded with bright greens and lush purples

Vibrant birds flutter about

With rainbow wing spans reflecting an orb of fire in the sky




There is a tiger stuck in between the two thickets

It’s fur pure as if untouched by time’s cold hand

But it has a choice to make


There are two landscapes of wilderness

One holds its own

Its own rhythm and heartbeat

Pumping black blood through the dirt

Forcing the ones that grow there to inherit its grudge

A man that now resides there is covering his blank face in the mud but still calls everyone else dirty

He stands on the trees but still cuts them down

And across the universe, he sees our tiger

Sees the golden pelt it adorns and the man desires to approach


There are two landscapes of wilderness

The second offers

Offers life

Breathing sweet vapor into the ones that live and love

A woman has lived there forever

She has created the rainbow of petals that inhabits every branch of every tree

Beyond the horizon she sees our tiger

She knows our tiger

She created our tiger

Every stripe was hand painted

Every colour mixed by the brush of tongue and cheek

The freckles on its cheeks laid by chocolate kisses from sun kissed coco beans

Fur woven with plush cotton

Eyes molded from the deep blue of a never-ending sea

And a heart grown from her very own

Ripped out in order to sculpt a creature that was supposed to fuel a perpetual love


She hopes our tiger will remember


Remember the grass it emerged from and the flowers that cradled it when some of the black blood found its way into its frail roots and up through its veins

She hopes while


Far far away where darkness roams

He covers himself in lies

Painting his face with the sins that leak from his eyes and ears and mouth

His precision is impeccable

He looks out to our tiger

She looks out at her world


Our tiger sees a woman seemingly different than it on one side

And a man far beyond the stars with stripes identical to its own


Our tiger’s blood begins to thicken and churn and is tinted with a hue of grey

His stripes dissipate

His fur is matted down


As he crosses over to a land too well known

A land with the audacity of gods

But the morale of serpents

His paws are now feet and hands

And they are covered in mud


There is a forest

A dim forest being lit up with the soul of a woman who once had love in her heart

And colour in her fingertips

Billions of tiny critters scuttle about


There is a forest

That is thriving and pulsing with the black blood

We love this forest, we breathe this forest as it is all that we can know and have been bred to know



Our paws are now feet and hands

And they are covered in mud



This poem is about: 
Our world


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