Twisted Dreams

🟨 Lie There

Lie there, my old friend, and let the earth fill your lungs.

Let the vines wrap you in a warm blanket.

Let the soil be your mattress, and the roots, your pillow.

Let cobwebs form in your empty skull and between your bony toes.

Your ribs become the shell of a bird's nest, and are carried off.

The coyote wanders near and quickly steals a leg, an arm.

Fungi grow from your joints and cracks, colorful and otherworldly.

Your eyes flutter shut, and, after only a moment, are covered in snow.

Let yourself become the earth.