I am a mammal
built from the mammals I ate,
who were built from the mammals before them.
A long chain of hunger,
resting briefly in the soil,
until the sun coaxes the green back up
to feed the next set of jaws.
But if you ask where the ghost goes,
the trail stops cold.
We cannot locate a soul to measure it.
Instead, we imagine what we need,
then teach the myth to our children,
until they forget
we were the ones who wrote it.
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