𝗠𝘆 𝗚𝗶𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗼 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗮𝘅𝘆
𝘣𝘺 𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘈𝘯𝘯 𝘓𝘰𝘚𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘷𝘰
Night’s canopy dares me to steal away,
Rebellious, jumping that forbidden fence
To gather prized morels, their strong, distinct
Excursions undertaken secretly.
Morchella have a symbiotic, deep
Relationship with trees, though unalike,
Attachments that help growing things survive.
An alien has been observing me.
Where’d you come from? What made me unafraid?
You plucked me from Earth, softening my limbs
In chemical light. I became your mate,
Lit from within, like mushrooms that can glow
In darkness, bioluminescent, strange
Befitting me, the beams igniting flesh.
Your not-hands cup each curve, warm, tenderly,
With extraordinary skill, hoist me
To not-lips that emit erotic sounds,
Transporting me to heights I’ve only dreamed
About ‘til now. My skin looks new but pruned.
Was this your planet’s purification,
My intergalactic, suave gigolo?
One moment floating through thin air
Together, wrapped in not-arms, we’ve escaped
Through time and space, strong currents pulling me
Along. But then you’ve vanished utterly.
My knees kiss forest soil and, fingertips
Away, green glowing fungi grow, as if
Predestined. “Just a dream, a fantasy!”
I think—except my thumb cap’s been tattooed,
Gold runes encircling it like a ring.