I push a seed through the dirt, bursting the watery film of membrane wrapped around the soil’s cranium  with tendon-deep greed and the strained color spill of fleece white knuckles digging for color  hoping to swap samples of sap for the gooey, numb blood  of truffles and evergreens and gold wanting to extract pine needles …

Line me up with  your hands gloved in garden – barbed wire thorns to lacerate soft flesh and mark scars like the passage of time bind my hands like a hook on a string  to the boards that defy the waves of my back and force-feed me between your finger and thumb  ripe like the pearls…