a bucolic burial

bloom buttercups where my head laid and
sprout dandelions on my fingertips

infuse me with pollen and nectar
and store in my chest cavity a
harbor for bumblebees and cocoons,
safe from prey’s way

the grass will caress my waist in
a jealous embrace as the child
clutches his mother

the hill swallows wide
and i climb

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Published by

c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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