taken by trees

I wake to the feeling of twelve meticulously crafted canine teeth sink, into my thigh, into my belly, and I breathe heavy to ease each clench and tug. I close my eyes when the end comes and feel the air cool each dent and slot, blood drying elastic crimson, I look forward to peeling it off, disrobing of it stretch by stretch, the skin underneath is white, almost light in comparison, it has never been touched, it is mine to keep until day breaks again and the wolves crawl in.

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