It does not fall in silence.
Head flung back, mouth split open
it hurls its pain upward,
an offering to a sky that never asked.
The legs below resist the ground,
some straining forward,
others already giving in
the body suspended
between the urge to rise
and the certainty of descent.
Charcoal catches it there
mid-cry,
mid-fracture,
in that single breath
before everything decides.
This is the animal within us
raw, unbound,
fierce in its breaking,
refusing
to disappear quietly.
- Object number
- 013.044
