Peaches Mostly, I am a sponge. A sack of bones, collected, sharply prodding, Held together by this spongy mass of muscle and tissue; Viscera. I am a breathing spore [sponge] Respirating [sponge] Growing [sponge] Absorbing Wet and crackling, I expand and contract. What will be my physical story, told? Multiply, grow Disease, decay Deceased, desist. Leaves Break down; First, The webbing between, Then the rest. “Time claims all.” And all become soil; Earth. And I see it in my veins In the patterned wrinkles of my skin That I am the same as [all of it] An avocado, A peach, A growth. A mass of veined, fleshy tissue. I, too. And like attracts like So I mush together; Teeth scrape p...