Riddle 15

Ophelia Eryn Hostetter

I’m the bold soldier of what I’ve been holding,
wire-woven, hedged and fledged,
pledged to the game, crowned & inwound —
hours go down, spot me spitting
by the minute — spear-spite never quitting.
Speeding is the way that it goes,
growing swollen, overflowing what I savor.
how my belly bursts with battle-hurts,
Starts to swing when I start to swallow
this hollow dark, war-edges swart & sharp,
the bitterness of biters, terrible teeth of spiders.
Inside’s a pleasure, trickled up with treasure,
sweetness to measure & loved by the leisured —
fam can’t forget, can’t figure how it flows, 
what flecks flicker in famous flocks from my nose.