One morning i awoke
& folded myself into 16 pieces
Tore off strips for passerby
Till i lived everywhere
But home
When i think about growth
i hear a thousand plants
Whispering
There’s always a way
Back to the ground
There’s solace in curling
Inwards
When i dream
i am made of all hands
Or fists
& people call one
Or the other beautiful
