[The World’s Roots] 011.

I am a plotted plant today.
A sunflower, I think.
I am looking at a sky that is the color blue
of faded years.
The sun is bright white, and it hurts to stare at.
But I’m a plotted plant, so I stare anyway.
The sun beams infiltrate my eyes.
They race through my veins.
I’ve never felt a pain this good.
I spread out my roots in the soil,
I arch my back and welcome the view.
Today, I’m a plotted plant.
But tomorrow —
tomorrow I think I’ll be the sun.

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[The World’s Roots] 011.

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