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?

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