Photo by Sergey Chuprin on Unsplash

Had the dandelions peek from my fingernails.
Had the vines wrap around my raw body like the arms of a mother.
Had the skin of thorns pierce my organs and blossom in my blood.
Had my eyes hollowed and taken by ripe fruits.
Had felt my feet rise and fall with the breath of the soil.
Had felt the fluids of my body empty onto the forest floor, giving life to the wilting plants.
Had screamed into the sun as my mouth hung agape with leaves grown through my teeth.
Had the salt of tears turn me into a pillar.
Had become a gift to the deer and the fauna.
Had been wrong.
Had been neglectful.
Had thrown cups and bags and bottles.
Had pumped smoke into the lungs of god.
Had seen the ashes of ice and trees blacken the maw of a blueberry sky.
Monument of sin.
Monument of deliverance.
Am a limb in this forest.
Am an appendage to the largest body.
The body of earth.