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a study in photosynthesis
i wonder what it must be like
to be the philodendron growing in my room
does sunlight taste
like orange juice maybe or warm metal or the cake baking in the oven downstairs
can it feel the sun in its veins
just as i can sometimes feel my blood jostle through my hands and fizzle in my fingers when i’m scared
can it hear me
when i lay on my bed and scream someone else’s words
until my throat is sore
the bass another heartbeat
thumping through my eardrums
can it see the stars through my window, shivering with cold?
does it feel the moons light
and does it taste like ice and salt or maybe the peppermint tea i drink when i can’t sleep?
i like to think
— those nights when the air is thick and burrows into my lungs —
i like to imagine i am breathing the same oxygen the plant has just sent out
because then i think i can taste
citrus
on the air
and the next morning i turn my face towards the sun
and i swear i can feel its light
in my veins
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a little poem dedicated to my philodendron :) i love the idea that the air i’m breathing is the same air my plant’s just exhaled. it calms me, somehow.