Telling

We are not Survivor.
They took our bodies down,
stripped and swaddled, spiced
and laid, restless.

We are not Victim,
though they nail us
to whatever piece of wood
they find to hand.

We are Resurrection.
Bury us deep as you dare,
our tendril roots beneath
bare earth will tangle, break
the surface tension, green
the guards will faint away
for fear of our awakening.

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