355 Readings

This Evolution

A tree sprouts from the sole

of my foot, roots corkscrew

and tangle with my tendons.


Branches like calipers circle

my wrists, tiny leaves embossed

with my whorled fingerprints.


A necklace of tree rings

chokes my voice,

my shoulders droop, sag

under the weight of so many

seed pods,




Slowly, my skin grows black and gnarled

I oxygenate instead of inhale –

always on the verge of asphyxiation.

Squirrels nest into the backs of my knees.


The tree adopts my dextrophobia

both of us constantly shifting to the left

waltzing in clumsy

three-legged figure eights.

Posted 04/04/13
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