Clawing for Purpose

 “Our world recycles souls, wiping our memories clean after every death. You wake up in the body of (animal of your choosing) locked up and on display in a Zoo. This time, you remember everything…”


What are these claws I carry?
I reach only forward and I see sand
flickering through my grasp,
like someone’s smoky vision
implanted in my brain.

 

My head reverberates,
clicking against the shells,
that share my confusion.

 

I see hell in every pulsing
shade from the red lights above.

 

I remember my human service,
once pressed onto this Earth
in a busy reckless bundle.

 

Now I scuttle with too many legs,
and pause for every bubble
drifting, shimmering, guideless.

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