Sap & Xylem
Raise the hands to the face 
Lift off the mask 
To reveal the tearstreaked visage 
Hiding all these years 
Bones anchor and pillar 
But not our own skeleton: 
Our dead underfoot
And the trees 
Always the trees
Arboreal safehouse of our furred antecedentes 
Towering over our deeds
Singing in leaf breeze
Rootclasp gripping earth
In cedar sway we know 
In alder bough and bow
When the sawteeth come 
Gnashing for our marrows 
Entwined mycelial braids squeeze—
And say goodbye 
Then lay still be beneath the Stihl
Who strides beneath the costume?
Daphne’s laurel growing inside like a child 
And all the ligneous predecessors
In sap and xylem
Blood and vein
Palms smear tears
…And come away with splinters
Open the face to the leaf-god 
Who meets the hands that meet the mask 
Peel forth the covering—
Inside we are trees


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