She shakes herself like a dog

Licking wounds with tongues of winds, fires, floods

Time to wake from this long nap and rid yourself of the fleas.

The seas revolt, finned armies planning death by stingray, lunch by shark

Rumblings beneath her skin, sighs above and tremors within.

She grows hot, then cold, and we begin to die.

Author: AR

Writer, photographer, traveler, general life-liver.

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