Vegetalization

Decayed veins bent low in a kiss; valves that have lost their will, misaligned from within. Furry stems creep beneath the skin. Vines pry apart bone and flesh. With every breath that swells the lungs, the tips of my fingers swell in turn, my fingerprints split, and pale white fruit begins to grow. The eyeballs, they say, are soft. Perhaps from staring blankly for far too long, they harden into seeds and press their way out.