i want to be covered in lichens
to lay still in praise
of dead limb & languish.
a frill is a frill no matter
sewn or sprouted. a queer in nature.
find me overgrown. desire & ivy.
green bondage. tethered to another dirt.
on the trail, rachel tells me
bright green lichens
mean the air is clean.
i breathe clean air
with my fat butterfly lungs
as she goes looking for rocks.
are the lichens resting or waiting?
is green earned or discovered?
entangled, i dream myself
thick with foliage. a winter
to taste blue. a spring to pageant wave
at hikers & bears. october
was supposed to save me. all the bugs
alive & asleep & alive & asleep.
lichens as eyelids. lichens
as doors. my past self strolling
in a lichen dress. oh ghost!
are you always carrying a stone?
one single lichen on my arm.
i ask it to spread faster. i need
this right now. take me far away
from all heaters & the ceilings
& the teeth. a lichen armor?
no, a lichen soul.
i can see the air.
oh queer trees & false stumps,
i know your secrets because
they are the same as mine.
where you keep the heels. where you
plummet into red & send love letters
to your fathers. where can i
plant myself in your midst?