Hunter-Gatherer

it’s lonely here,
dark and primitive.

if she hurts,
she has no wounds.
if she needs,
she has no words.
she moves from one mode
to the next,
THIS WILL FILL THE
EMPTINESS.

gathers and hunts,
strangles and searches,
curls up in every crevice,
claws at the walls of
the world.

if, years later, it all
chips away like rust,
maybe it never really was.

she goes into the sea.
over half her weight is
already water.

so insignificant that
the ocean is not changed.

maybe one will look for her,
but six billion have never
even known her.