Planet-friendly/ When my soul molts
just put me in the compost
with the chicken bones/ My skin will settle
down next to onion/ Stew in the mouth
of the slowest eater
The soil rifling through itself
that does not seek/Does not discern
between one hard thing or the other
Shale or tooth/ Folds over the lip
and worm/ Sizzles out a rose
of recycled placenta/ Evaporated
eye ball tears fill gutters/ glasses
I’ll be honored to be your drink
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