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