& their humid winds
laying themselves down
before the green expanse
of meadowland

the fat flat blade of green grass
held between her fingers
took his last breath just before
she placed him under her tongue

a chlorophyll throat lozenge

for seventy-two hours of stillness

moss now grows in pale stitches
between folds of skin growing

in lifeless inertia
a body likens itself cadaverous

& so her fingernails turned an unshakable ochre
petal garnishes
on blooming tulip hands

& her lips osmose

her torso gangrene

her feet
food for the fish

& the green pressure of nature herself
drew from a plastic straw

a deluge

her stomach purged forth
her humanness
& the rain fell & fell

a downpour
for seventy-two hours more

& she became just another plant

on the forest floor

Lauren Kristin is a junior majoring in Photography.