i am insane--
the leaves ping on/off
to careen and siren and scrape
as they retaliate
their loss of form, which says nothing
of the night that will end
itself a type of rain
and the pain in my temple, a cloud
of lightning
rooting, with but a single flower--
petals that lure with perfume
that stains--
my tongue is thorn--
my fruit is fang.