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The Aloe Plant The green giggly gumdrop of your roasted head, all aslather out of the medicine cabinet. A novel resuscitation fluid, it really feels like it's doing something, pores absorbing the juice inherited in a very small pot after an island vacation led to several dermatological emergencies. O fleshy arms, o half-assed spines and weak striation, let me just hack off a limb or two and graft you onto my own dead skin, spark my translucent, green-glazed reflection in the mirror, wincing under light. I'm otherworldly here, cooked and basted, consuming still the juices I can stand, healing whole. O aloe, you see how it is: The sun fed you, but burned me, and now you have to go. posted by Reen |link| 0 comments |