Untitled #4

It died.
And I took its skin
and its bone
and carried them to my home.

I remembered it.
That it had eyes
Eyes like mine.

I dried the skin
and stripped the bone.
I bleached them in the sun.

I saw the final breath leave it
as it died.
And I breathed in.

From the skin
I made clothes.
From the bone
I made tools.

I carried it with me.