I am to grow down to your garden, and talk to the flowers
and I pretend I was succulent and we grow back but never tired.

cut me into three pieces
you work the land by quarters
watching me,
perhaps you whose arms felt like lead.
I gave you rotten things when I grew up
but terribly feeling that I was being laughed at.

So below, I sew with these branches to you
grow back and intertwine. We are the behaviors of the briars
and we are familiar.