Sometimes I walk the ground
in just socks.
So all my socks are made of dirt.

I let brambles scratch
warrior plants attack
It won't detach me from my thirst
for community, unity, passion,
compassion swells.

The rain is welcome here.
It washes me
dripping
clean I am
blossoms realizing themselves.

My oils are pungent.

Sometimes my sisters give me a rash.
I kind of like it.

Sturdy hands
Green-blue thumbs
spur my growth

Bugs like to crawl into my mouth
when I am hungry.

The river takes my pain downstream.
It sheds glass
as I shed.

And you
gleaming from afar
Your silky grace
sips my spine
licks up my mind
and spins me into
timeless lifeforms
awaiting
          the lightning.


Sometimes.