Lost
She wanders
Skeletons drifting
Moss soft under feet
Bare and beautiful, dutiful thing
Times once were for girls
Like her

Lost
She hungers
Swift lupine limbs
Fulgent orbs ravenous
Furtive under firs, no sirs yes sirs
Pedestals in place for girls
Like her

Lost
She quails
Doe-y dewy one
Moon shell trembling
Beneath cloudy seas, naked knees
No one left to hunt girls
Like her