Roots and vines snake, tangling
around scuffed patent leather
mary janes, delicate ankles,
up the toothpick curves of my youthful
legs, securing me to the earth.
They keep me from floating
up into the atmosphere, burning
to nothingness. Keep me
from diving off cliffs, bridges.
From hanging, poisoning.
Tethered by knotted roots,
I cannot leave this world, no
matter how deeply my bones ache.
Dismayed, unsettled, I look
down at my viney captors,
among the leaves, two small
faces look up at me, smiling,
blooms from a wicked stalk,
wrapped around, tightly
clutching my weak legs.
Tittering through my lamentation.
Resigned, for that moment,
to entrapment among tangled roots,
I crumple to the unyielding
blanket of branches and blades,
and softly kiss their golden eyelids.