gender pog

i am masculine in the same way an ominous pile of bones deep in the woods is masculine. my gender is a rotted and decayed elk with ivy finding a home between its exposed ribcage and reaching up to unite with the moss forming a bridge from antler to antler. it's the bugs that have stripped away its flesh, leaving it entirely bare but in its bareness, it's found the greatest form of peace. its body belongs entirely to the forest, to the soil and debris. only touched by the maggots that lay beneath the small patch of earth it's claimed as its own and the soft patters of rain, but otherwise, left entirely undisturbed. even the wolves know better than to touch it; a comfort to some, an omen to others.