Place moss in my mouth.
Bind my hands with vines.
Allow flowers to sprout from my skin.
Braid grasses into my hair.
Fill my lungs with river water.
Paint my face with berries.
Replace my bones with branches.
Leave crystals where my eyes once sat weeping.
Let me rot beautifully.
Turn a corpse into a god.
Make Me Into Something Holy...
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoesieIt's as deep, as I am empty. Wish I photographed the artist's name who had made this cover.
