we would go around
in our abode and let
the small things grow.

to plant poetries in glass containers
put them on sunlit desks and live.

we would let the tiny vines
crawl in the absence of our
inanimacy.   taking the form

of limbs.

we would water them every
other day so as not to dry
and not

to drown.

we would let plants grow in tiny glass
containers in exchange for

our bodies

who in themselves stopped growing
a long long time ago.

      (inspired by Ms. Guevara’s terrariums)


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