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We were spread out
Across the lands
We were the miniatures
Of the legends
We had legs like your nerves
We had primitive figures
We had sharp noses
We had livid tissues
We had life in the edges
We had sharp kisses
We never touched their nerves
Yet we bleed in the middle of a summer
We were once boastful
That axes can never wipe us out
Now they need our earth naked
Now they need to root us out
Now they make breathless cells
Now they live in porous grounds
We are them in counted days
Ignorant we are, ignored by their ways