Autotroph

Rose; a dangerous possibility, volcanic like a body on fire.

Myself and the rose. My body a light-bender; you reach me through photosynthesis. Rootedness, tongue in my mouth, a reminder:

I am teething on shadow.

Bloom set to cataclysm. I swallow the sun to ward off death. Mythopoetic; cycle woven from dried blood. Limbs ever-reaching, atmosphere dissolves on syncopated breath.

I wished for love; instead, death becomes more immortal.