the roots
the veins
the flow
the sap
a quiet inundation
effortlessly streaming
a sweet caress
a violence born
on timeless, bated breath.

the kiss
the taste
the awe
in sacrifice accepting
bending light and training
of sweat undressed
the droplets wrest
from warp and tangled weft,

on the verge
of panic urged
from every pore,

on the cusp
becoming rust
what you adore,

nature is
as nature does
as nature comes undone

the tooth
the claw
the scratch
the flaw
skin that peels too easily
blood that flows too quickly
this bouquet flesh
that once was blessed
now holds a breath til death.

© Emma Calder

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