Burn me in a furnace of vines
Consume me with your green tongues
swaddlings of ivy, caress my aching skin.
Scrape out my moulding intoxication
Massage my oily maladies
and let me sleep between subtle thorns
Plant a fuse in my pores
Ignite my screeching roots.
and let the stangnant swamps in my mind
dry up into
delirious
breathing
gas