They pick flowers off of their backs
and feed them to me
hoping I would grow into leaf,
Any use but these motionless roots
that just won’t move
As it uses up precious soil.
I would gleam into the most beautiful and nutritious of fruits
If only I knew how to
I want to tell you that water leaks right through my soil
That birds plummet to the ground after nibbling on my greens
That everything that touches me retracts into nothingness
And I have no scent
That a human could pick up
But the insects resent me
They think I’m trying to poison them
I do not dare try to convince them otherwise
Because I do await my precious snakes every night
Luring them in with hisses and offerings
I want them to mistake me for shelter,
To trace my stem all the way down to these stubborn roots
How I would love to be coated in so much venom
that no amount of water would ever deem my soil habitable
that flowers would wilt and die upon being placed on my grave.