Two Thrusting Limbs (NaPoWriMo Day 9)

Two thrusting limbs
from same
roots grow:

I and
Sister Pride

My branches
dip low
with buds of
green peeking
out from
fragile stems,
delicate as veins –
only to be plucked and
whisked away by the

Sister Pride, dressed
in rotting bark twists
and stretches knobbly
fingers toward the
heavens, flaunting
petaled hair that stinks
of decay and crumbles to

Pride and I,
I try

but wonder at

if cut to
a stump,
who will die?
Pride or I?

Copyright © 2015 by Amaryllis Torres


3 responses to “Two Thrusting Limbs (NaPoWriMo Day 9)

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