Every morning I jump through the brush.
A thicket of knots and thorns that’s on top of my head.
Every day I pick rose petals from my garden, and I place them on each apple of my face.
Every night I take off my camouflage, and glow with a fluorescent blue light that keeps the neighbors up at night.

I am an apple on the branch of a tree that branches through canopies and canopies of leaves and leaves to find an inch of light, to get out of the darkness. An apple that blooms off the twists and turns of sticks over sticks that grow and meet through out the years, I am an apple.

I am a wonder of the world, I am a miracle that pops through the wilderness.
I am nature.