I woke, shaking,
the base of my spine reaching for the ground
crawling below my bed
through floorboards and framework
to the depths of dirt
to the crawl space that lies
with open arms below
I begged to be received
for my tender roots to find
the softness of your soil
to soak in the decomposition of what promises to nourish
I found tendrils twisting and turning
dancing through grit and grime
tangled in knots that
creep and crawl
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