Deep,
very deep,
ancient trees with ancient roots,
vines that wind, aligned through time
while reptiles dine upon rotting corpse
Parachute jumper, a former treasure hunter
Caught in trees canopies he struggles to break free
His map,
dropped and laid before him,
Showing him where he never made it.
Black snake bite hard,
the venom makes him feel elated
Struggle gone,
desire stolen,
he died slowly and felt golden,
Here in the jungle,
on the vine,
his corpse hangs for all of time...
-Andrew Colunga
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