My life is like a splinter
I always pray underneath it

I am often seen on the streets
& famous for exploring sound

I ride the edge realms of dystopian crowds
& know never to run across open ground

Wicked men in art put me in cages
the Witch gave me ages to eat their hearts

 Even techno pirates fear me now

 I can swim for miles & drink fromth tap
The wise woods worship me as an oldē hat

I enjoy dark places & squeak when I laugh
A perfect companion in many great escapes

I weigh in at a pound or sometimes eight

But make no mistake
My teeth grow like tusks

I love the legend of the harp
& swarm in dance with the Moon.

Who am I?

— 29 Feb 2563