Roadkill

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cyravance
cyravance
17 Followers

The asphalt's black and cold and on it
Is the remnant of some tiny soul.
Skin and hair and shattered bone,
Collapsing upon itself, shrinking down.

The breeze stirred up by passing cars
Stirs the fur, which gently waves.
It almost seems alive, but it's just an
Illusion. It's been dead for days.

cyravance
cyravance
17 Followers
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