i clenched brown earth in my hands and let it sift through my fingers,

what remained in my clinched fist were small rocks and strings of dry grass,

i never felt more alive with my hands dirty and muddy instead of clean holding synthetic plastics and cheap processed metals,

i raised my hands and did not smell perfume or manufactured aromas,

painted creations that melt with sweat under the sweltering sun. . .

how i had neglected earth and myself for so many years,

making a small hole in the soil i stood in it and planted myself like a plant and covered my feet and ankles with brown earth, bugs and earthworms.

raising my arms to the sun there i stood browning with the sun,

nestling in shadows under the moon,

birds nested and picked away at my skin and eyes, ears and tongue,

wasps nestled in my nose,

butterflies emerged from my ears every season and fluttered about before disappearing from sight,

a bee hive descending from my chin, beetles nestled and used my skin as a blanket,

my roots stretched deep into the earth and became entangled with others,

i had lost all my senses and yet,

i was alive like never before,

and so never did i again weep. . .