Budding

Emma Austin

Been in the dark

been in the tree

by the bark

in the leaves lying down,

waiting for the molts

festering, the soils

matter on my tongue

in the lungs. here our petals

grow ears and fingers

my lips are sprouting 

if you look close enough

you’ll find the swelling.

the honeybee

stops for us, the sweetness

a nectar-filled kiss goodnight

the moon is a talisman.

Sealed and enveloped the nutrients

from our earlier beings take root

a blessing to disguise ourselves so

here we arrive to the end

of longing, or something like that

maybe we call it growth

like the season changes us

to decay, to falling, to the

newer blooms

pulling at our roots.