Pour me into the swamplands,
I will slither in liquid green,
beneath the dirt and swollen
rolling grime,
I will plant my seed
and name my home
in the mud.

Trees to grow like straight fingers
to rake the sky
and the ivy, moss to flood their
branches,
I am queen here in the languid bayou,
barefoot among the leeches
and the snakes,
the quagmire covers me.
I sink down on my back to gaze
through the silt,
my eyes liquid to liquid.

09/23/2003

Author's Note: based on an original version that i think i like much better, im not sure if this one says what i mean it to.

Posted on 09/23/2003
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