your smile is forced

                        your voice,

            your eyes,

your words...

            saccharine and mottled

                        (you’re livid inside)

                                    and it shows,

                                                even if your shards of skeletal regret

                                                            raze through the tattered cloak of cheer

                                                                        you gamely sport

                                                                                    (it reminds you of the hunt)

*

fox burnt umber and flashing rust through

rustling green

almost silent, silken

seeming tangerine against the trees

~huddled, stock-still~

(you hunger within)

feather float with a whisper,

with disguised deadly intent

sudden ruby floods the roots below