What’s that? You want to read some poetry today?
from “viscerous” by Loren Walker
“my cells are separating”
My cells are separating: growing legs, and unfolding.
You can press your arms around my shape
but wings are spilling out; frantic, fluttering colors,
a cloudburst of butterflies, exploding in every direction.
Make a net with your fingers. Crosshatch and catch me,
one by one. Curl your palm to shelter
so the edges can be pressed into hexagons,
wings wrapped and dehydrated, into chrysalises, row by row,
to make a knee; an ear; a body
that quivers, and ripples, in stasis.