WILD_BOY

 

He was the hunter with no arrow, the boy with no heart. He stood in the middle of the wild wood, his pale toes digging into the soft cool mulch of generations of fallen leaves. He hummed in mesmerism as the broken sun struck his cheek, seared his naked back, played with his throat. He was alone, but within multitudes. His bare toes gripped hold of the world as his hips began to sway with his hum.