The warrior

Artemis-like
On a mountain
That no one dares
To move on.

Because its hers.

And when he comes anyways
She is not breaking out a war
With trompetes and machines
She stands behind a tree
Does she wait until he´s asleep?
No, she aims
her arrow
between his second and third rip
and lets
it
flip.

he will die,
in one minute and fifteen
time enough
to talk with him about respect
for him to remember when he comes back.

Because if he comes back
in hundret years or seventeen
As ant or as human being
She
never left.

She´ll be there forever
protecting
hunting
knowing
what
she
wants from him.

Autor*in: Emilia Tapli

i believe that the children the visions and art come from the same place they come through the heart. through that we can carry them those creatures those souls. as mamas and midwifes and fertilize soil. my music: https://youtube.com/@emiliatapli

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