Over years and years
like some sort of slowly-evolving serpent
you have rubbed away your vestigial
limbs of sorts: Your heart and soul and
your sense of reason. But I am confident
that somewhere deep inside of you,
near your core or just a little before it,
there’s a part of you that’s still alive, but
this is a confidence that roots on hearsay
and it. Is. Wavering.