Lygodium Palmatum

Lygodium Palmatum short poem

Photo by Cowirrie

You grow like
ferns
in my ribcage.

weeds.

feeding on the
topsoil,
residue,
sediment of
the flora now
dead and gone —
a decaying heart.

through filtered sunlight
you grow
rampant,
climbing, twining
through every part
of
this rotting,
putrid carcass;
make your home in
spent, worthless flesh
and yellowed
bones.

I wait for a brush fire
to make me clean
again;
ash finally pure
fresh and
fertile.

(for you to
take
new
root)

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