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In the Palms of My Hands
The sand that coats the ground
holds the shape of the wind
It's all beige and blue
until the moon rises and the stars compile a brief glimpse of the Milky Way
Every day I watch them die
in the palms of my hands -
A bed for vivid dreams
I took a bath in my own golden light
and watched a smile grow upon my face
as I adventured on my own, into the forest near my house.
I felt at home and found myself on the earth's floor looking up into a sky of movement, -
the forest creatures
along the banks of creeks and streams,
sleeping beneath just inches of soil,
sucking on the roots of willow trees and the
sap strewn from a mid-march maple tree,
nested in the wooden wands of an ancient redwood, -
healing
i wash your fingers out of my knotted hair,
rid your bitter taste from my lips, and
scrub my barren skin with fine sea salt,
until the bottle has been emptied,
until every inch of
you has left my body -
This Green World
The trumpet vine smiles up at me,
the wild grass reaching for my extended arms,
both begging me for a hug,
my palms turn to face the kaleidoscope sky.
My breath synchronizes with every other living being -
my birthday wish came true
the earth laughed flowers
and my bare feet planted roots in the damp earth
my fingernails like jupiter's moons,
orbiting my body while i spin
i grow wings and fly in deep green still water,
my body in her purest form